The Untold Story of District Four
by kmmc
Summary: This is the tale of Finnick and Annie. "You'll meet her. You'll love her. She's beautiful. It's sad. She stays sad for days at a time. She won't talk. But she's beautiful. You'll see. When she smiles…you'll see."
1. Wash

Alright, so we're kicking off a new story. Every chapter comes with a song. This one is **Wash**: Bon Iver. _I own no rights to these characters._ Happy Reading!

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><p>Love stories weren't meant to blossom in the Districts. Fairytales were only made up for the children in the Capitol of Panem…and the dark days. Elaborated on for those poor people without hope and full of delusion. Those are what fairytales are made of. But they aren't found here. There are no mermaids in the sea. Only lonely fisherman with their old boats and siren songs.<p>

The cloudy smog of sea salt shrouds our afternoons only to sometimes involve the hazy sun that would only appear with a harsh heat. The angry waves that only calm after storms beat against fishing marshes and pools that we knew to swim in when safe. No, as beautiful as the coast could be, it was just as dangerous. Where our home isn't surrounded by crashing waves, it's lined with barbed wire. District Four isn't the worst place to live, but it certainly is no Capitol of Panem. The food, although not terrible, is scarce. It's a fight for food. It's a fight for distributing it to the Capitol and for salvaging it for a starving family. That's why we do it. That's why we fight so hard for the title of Tribute…to save ourselves, our families. Once ago, being the daughter of a merchant in District Four, food wasn't necessarily the worst of our problems. Although we only receive the bits of fish no one wants or stale biscuits, it's still food. No, it was business that threatened to take that little bit of luxury from our family. That's how I first knew of him. Finnick Odair, son of my father's enemy. What with the Odair family spearing away in the territory where our nets stayed, they were practically stealing without consequences. And with that problem lingering about, we were no further from poverty than the rest of the fishmongers.

I remember the days when I was younger, helping my parents take care of our business. My mother would sit by the edge of our pools taking twine and rope and weaving these intricate nets and my father would let our used nets drape over the pools where schools of fish would swim by and hide from the thrashing waves. My father would stand carefully and still until he saw it fit to throw his spear down. I would watch in awe and my mother would just smile, her dark hair covering most of her face as she went back to work. She only brought up her dark eyes when my father would come back on shore with three buckets at a time full of fish and other little edible creatures. "A lovely catch," She would tell him, kissing him on the cheek. Humbly, he'd wipe the sweat from his brow, pushing back his equally dark hair and give her a curt smile. My father wasn't a man of many words, except when he saw the Odair brothers approach our bank. "I thought I asked you to stay away from this spot, Odair?" My father called out. Mr. Odair was a boisterous character, strong and muscular. The tall man and his sons loomed over my father and I remember a spark of anger ignite in my chest. I was young and carefree like my father had been when he was a boy, and I was ready to fight. But my mother's gentle calling pulled me back, "A lady keeps a cool temper. Now be my sweet girl," She told me, pushing her hand softly through my caramel wavy locks. I sat back down beside her and would help her net. But since then I held a special grudge for Mr. Odair and his son Kane. And an even deeper one for his youngest son, Finnick, the boy with the trident.

It wasn't until after my thirteenth birthday did that change.

"Annie, go down to the pools and check the nets," My mother ordered. I pulled back my dark curls and grabbed my swimming shorts and shirt. Wading in the somewhat calm waters of a small pool was an ideal escape of the District worries and daily chores.

"Yes mama," I called back and ran out the door of our quiet little coastal cottage. I remembered the grains of sand, slippers of comfort as I trekked through our trails to the ocean. The crisp sea air greeted me as the sun was slowly peaked past daybreak. I approached the bank of rocks that were just above the pool where our nets laid. That's when I saw him. Finnick Odair, a tall, tan, scrawny boy with no luster and bronze-colored hair, and sea green eyes like everyone who lived by the coast. Finnick Odair, a boisterous, rambunctious arrogant creature. I despised him. Him and his family were enemies of the Crestas.

I didn't mean to gaze so intense towards him, but my eyes lingered as my mind mulled over thoughts, which I can't remember anymore. He, his older brother Kane, and friend Thomas had been carelessly hunting around our fishing nets. The three of them elbowed each other with congratulatory smacks on the back. "Good shot, Finn!" The other two boys shouted after a fling with his flimsy trident.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. That's when they took notice. "Careful Cresta," Finnick called out with that arrogant crooked smile. I became surprisingly angry as he watched me with a smug grin. My toes gripped the slippery rocks, as I pretended they weren't there and I reached out to the nets as if I hadn't heard him. I crawled on the rocks to inch closer, my knees a little bruised and scratched. I was so close but as I finally reached the buoy that held the net, pulling it up, a huge force fought back, and dragged my body to the sea. The waves thrashed and slammed my body to the rocks. I instinctively let go of the net for fear I be captured. It didn't make sense how a simple daily task became my enemy but my only option of escape was floating like driftwood. My body was pushed under, deeper into the pool until I thought I wouldn't be able to outride the crazy mayhem of the waves. I felt my body succumb to breathlessness. I felt my body sinking and my lungs shrinking. I swore I would die here in a pool of water, lack of oxygen making me weak. But I guess fate had different plans. My last memory of the pool was a strong pair of hands retrieving me. A cough, a splutter, and I was revived. "Hey, are you ok?"

Looking into the eyes of my savior, I choked. "You…You saved me." I said, gasping for air, fighting out of his hands. I stared at him in confusion.

His green eyes glared at me in surprise, "You didn't think I'd let you drown?" He asked with an offended tone ringing out.

I coughed again, trying to catch my breath, "I didn't think you'd save me."

"Be careful Cresta," He repeated but this time with a look of disappointment and warning, leaving me there with my thoughts.

After that day, I thought differently about Finnick Odair. It was my first real memory of the real him.


	2. Pray Tell

**Pray Tell: **Anberlin

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><p>I saw him everywhere after that. In the market, in the halls at school or the lunchroom. He's older than I am by a year, and was the talk of the town even at the age of fourteen. I didn't hate him, but I didn't adore him either. District Four was a fairly large district and I was willing to avoid him, no matter the cost. 'How could I face the enemy who saved his enemy?' I would think, but two weeks later I was asked to go back to the nets and he was there. I meant to just finish my task and run back home but he took notice of me. "Will you need my help today or can you manage?" He asked as I pulled out the net. I would have been furious if the net hadn't been littered with squirming fish. A smile crept across my lips.<p>

"I think I can manage," I shouted back, taking in the full net and tossing the fish in pail by the bay. "Will you?" I laughed.

He looked alarmed, "Go ahead Cresta…gloat," He threw me a mean look and kept spearing at the waves. "…Coming from the girl who can't swim."

I laughed at Finnick's throw. "Oh? Is the boy with the weak arm and poor spearing jealous of the Cresta netting?" I smirked, pushing my hair back. "Besides, I'm the best swimmer in the district," I flaunted.

He smiled a crooked grin, the same smile he uses to win the girls at school, "Oh, you think so, do you?" He asked me coyly, as he watched me through squinting eyes; the sun evaporated the last of the morning clouds.

His banter gave me incredible confidence. "I know so."

He let out a hearty laugh, or as hearty as a laugh could be for a fourteen-year-old boy, "You can beat me?" He shook his head, nearing me.

"Of course I can," I squeaked proudly with crossed arms.

He grinned at my weak voice, "Challenge accepted."

I stood up straight, trying to be as official as I could. "Alright, state your bet. If I win…?"

It was obvious he liked being able to set the terms. He circled me a bit and then stroked his chin mockingly. "I'll talk my family into staying away from your netting territory. But if I win…I want you to teach me how to net." He smiled watching me closely.

A frown spread across my face as I gritted my teeth. "So you can take over my mother's trade as well?"

Finnick didn't like my assumptions. That, I'll forever remember his look of distaste at the idea. I was only ever given that look a handful of times. He shook his head immediately. "No. Training Cresta…for training," He sighed pushing back his auburn hair. My heart curiously leapt at the simple movement.

Although my heart was racing, and I somehow knew the answer, the frown never left, "What would you need training for Finnick?" the question spilled out past my grinding teeth.

"The games." My stomach sank. He was training for the games. The terrifying Hunger Games. This was the second year I put my name in to be a tribute. It was natural for most children twelve to eighteen to train in District Four. It saved us from starvation and the Capitol's harsh hand. Victors were the pets of the Capitol, taken care of, given eternal glory and riches…oh the riches. I can only imagine why Finnick would train as hard as he disclosed he had been. His family, although not sinking in poverty, had faced hard times lately. They needed the money. I didn't like Finnick but it unraveled me to think that he would ever be in the games. I didn't want to see his face over the televisions around the District, fighting for his life, killing other children, and ultimately dying. I should have been training too…but my mother won't allow it. The thought of me fighting to the death for survival tortured her. "Annie, you'll only put your name in as is mandatory each year, no more than that." She reminded me. But even once was enough for some people. There was no escaping the Capitol and no one was truly free of the games.

I wanted to say something reassuring to him, but what? I knew I could have possibly been that year's tribute. Or we could have both fought each other…either way…there was nothing to say. "So when do you think I'll be winning this bet?" He asked haughtily, but even with a grimace, I was thankful he broke the silence.

I looked over the sea, it seemed quiet…it was the calmest it had been that entire week. "Why put it off? I don't mind beating you today." I said, equally arrogant.

He laughed, "Ok, where do we swim to?"

A small sand bank jutted out past the netting pool. It seemed close enough to ensure our safety, but far enough to assure a good race. "Out to that little island," I said, stretching my arm out to show him.

Finnick nodded, "There and back?"

I shook my head, it seemed too far to double back, "No. Why waste my breath…I know who's going to win." I said boldly.

He grinned, "Oh, Annie Cresta, the ocean's calm today, you might have a chance." He told me with a wink.

I bit my lip and smirked. "I was talking about me Finnick." We readied ourselves on the edge of the bank, ready to dive in.

"Alright, on your mark …Go!" Finnick shouted in, immediately pushing off. He was right, the waves were fairly calm, but it was a longer distance than I had anticipated. I was the fastest at first, but I wore out. He was much taller than I was and eventually passed me by an inch, but I kept swimming. I finally caught up and seemed to have passed him.

My feet had just hit the edge of the bank, and he zipped past me. I sped up my pace, running on the sand. Swimming was my forte, running was not. "Who won?" I asked, breathless.

He laughed, equally out of wind, "I won." He announced.

I became instantly defensive. "You did not," I snapped.

Finnick smirked and stretched out on the sand. His shorts were covered in sand that immediately stuck to him, but he didn't mind. "Of course I did, I was here first." He said, propping his head on his folded arms and staring at the bright blue clouds. The sun was shining and for once, the heat wasn't devastatingly overbearing.

I watched him, angrily. "I was. I reached the bank before you."

"Yeah but I made it on land first." He said calmly.

I shook my head, finally sitting down and allowing my body to relax. "No, I won."

Finnick shrugged. "Fine, it's a tie," He suggested.

I frowned as I eventually sank down beside him. "But a tie doesn't win a bet." I said, stretching out like him.

He chuckled in true Finnick fashion, "Then I won." He was arrogant.

And I was tired. I knew it wasn't well mannered for a thirteen-year-old girl to be fighting with boys anyways, especially placing bets on said fights. And I knew my mother would have been appalled at the brute force I had shown with my words that day. "Fine, you won."

Finnick sat up, watching me, dismayed, "You're going to give up just like that?"

I sighed. "You wanted to win."

"Well, yeah but not like that," He said irritated. "Race back?" He asked, as if winning hadn't been enough.

I frowned when I could feel the sun's full heat and didn't truly appreciate it as I was drying out too quickly, "No, I'm tired. You won," I said begrudgingly.

"So you're going to teach me to tie knots?" He asked, finally after only seconds of silence.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, Finnick, I'll teach you to tie knots! You're clearly the better swimmer…" I growled, trying to enjoy my moments of relaxation before I had to go off and finish my chores.

Finnick leaned down beside me, "I am superior."


	3. Half of Something Else

**Half of Something Else: **Airborne Toxic Event.

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><p>After that, Finnick and I spent a lot of time together. At first, the idea made my skin crawl, but soon enough Finnick won my emotions like the rest of the District. We met on the small bank we had swum to earlier, but this time we traveled in a little rowboat. We would sit on the bank in the late afternoons once school was out and work until dark. We often sat close to the edge of the bank so waves would lap up and cool us down on hot afternoons but that day was cloudy so the water only sent chills down my spine. "No, that's not how you tie that…" I would correct him. He would simply smirk and try out his own methods. Naturally, his attempts never worked without my corrections or instructions.<p>

"Oh this is tedious." He would mutter a few times, hurriedly rushing through the knots.

I grinned, stopping him. His sloppy work came undone in seconds. He sighed, defeated so I took his hands and would lead them, practically tying knots for him. "You'll get the hang of it," I said as I completed a corner of the net. He had gotten faster at tying the knots, but if any were ever sloppy they came undone and he'd have to go back to fix them.

He started tying knots on his own again and I sat quietly etching things in the sand. "How's your father's fishing business?" He asked me one afternoon. I stared off to the pools across the bank where we both normally fished. Truth be told, everything had seemed to be overwhelmingly abundant which was marvelous, but I hadn't seen Finnick or any of the Odairs out by the pools and I didn't know if they hadn't had as good of luck. I knew it would have been rude to admit our booming success if they didn't have a scrap to call their own. But that was something I should've celebrated alone, right? …That we were prosperous. I decided to pretend that it was the same as always…

"Fine. And yours?" I asked politely, creating a wall in the sand.

Finnick kept his focus on the net. "Better. A little rough…our last spot was better," He told me with a smirk. "It's been a little difficult trying to make up for the losses," He said with a shrug.

A pang of disappointment and shame had hit me, "You found a new spot?" I asked him quietly. He held up his bargain when I lost…I knew in that single moment, Finnick had done it. He had won my heart and didn't even know.

Another smirk crossed his lips. "Yeah it was a tie after all…don't be stupid Cresta," He laughed, letting the sun catch the tips of his auburn hair. He looked radiant. My heart sank with the embarrassing reality that I had fallen for Finnick Odair.

I played it off. "You know, you're not as annoying as you seem, Odair," I told him, leaning back in the sand.

He laughed. "Unfortunately, you are. But I am a patient man," He joked, tossing aside his net and joining me in the warm sand. It was softer and finer than the sand across the pool.

"Since when did age fourteen make you a man?" I laughed and stared up at the setting sun, the clouds still loomed around it. We were silent for a while but I became restless, because as much as I wanted the moment to last forever, I knew it wouldn't, and it didn't. And I especially knew that soon, tomorrow even, I might never have that moment again. "Do you ever worry about reaping?" I asked quietly.

Finnick turned and glanced at me, "Not as much anymore I guess."

I was a little more shocked that he didn't have a worry in his mind, but that was Finnick. Finnick never cared, because he knew he would win. He never minded because he was Finnick. He was the best. He knew how wonderful he was. So why worry? "But you've only been in three."

"Three's enough. I've been training." And then I remembered why I hated him. He was arrogant. He held his head high and his expectations higher. He thought he was wonderful, and he thought no one reached his level, including me.

"So…?" I said, letting my eyebrow rise and my temper rise as well.

He sat up and shook his head. "There's nothing to worry about, I guess," he said as he shrugged. "Why, do you?" He asked, prompting me to sit up.

I remember not wanting to feel weak, but with those eyes watching me, I did. "All the time…" I breathed.

Finnick frowned, staring at the bank across from us, "So I guess you're scared about tomorrow?" He watched me for a short second and then looked back to the bank.

"Yeah. I kind of am," I told him honestly. I remember feeling stupid for telling him the truth, but his sincerity that followed since that conversation was worth my moment of vulnerability. Finnick and I hadn't had an honest conversation since we knew each other, and I guess the day before the reaping was as good enough of a day as ever.

He smiled at me reassuringly and it seemed that there was something more in Finnick than just overwhelming haughtiness. "Well, I hope the odds are in your favor." I overlooked my hatred once again.

"As they are in yours," I told him quietly. We didn't talk. The sun had been emitting little daylight at that point.

"Do you want to swim?" He asked me as he watched the waves overlap one another.

I shook my head after I contemplated the offer. "No, you need to learn to net." I said, looking at the sorry net and ropes in his lap.

He sighed and pushed the net away from him. "I know how to net. Let's swim," He begged me quietly. After he looked at my uncertain face, he baited me. "Afraid I'll win again, Cresta?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow and showing off the same crooked smile that won the hearts of the girls of District Four.

I grinned competitively, "You're on."

For the rest of the day we swam and then sat on the beach and built a fire, and talked into the slowly approaching night. He told me everything he had learned in training with his father. How to throw a trident. He told me what he liked about fishing. That it was calming. He told me about stories with Kane and Thomas, funny stories. He told me about Kane growing up and the relief it was to have him out of the Hunger Games for good after this year's reaping. He told me all the mischief him and Thomas got into. He told me about things he liked to learn. Music. Surprisingly enough. He liked mathematics and logic and he was surprisingly brilliant. He would sweep back those handsome dark bronze-colored locks and lean into the warmth of the fire. He would smile, shadows dancing intricately on his face. His smile was warm, inviting, and beautiful, even then. He told me stories about his brother, asked me about my own family, asked me anything about me and watched me chatter on happily. He traced pretty pictures in the sand by the firelight and asked me more questions about the reaping. What I thought? Was I scared? If I would watch if he were chosen? "Every second," I told him honestly, blushing childishly.

"Would you really?" He asked with an excited smile. I glanced over at him and nodded. Then I turned back to the stars and watched them twinkle in the cloudless night.

"I wouldn't miss a moment," I told him quietly.

Finnick laughed a quiet hollow laugh. "To see me die?" He chuckled. I remember my heart aching. We were so young, so hopeless…it was all that we could do to pretend as if the morbid truth we were sinking in didn't matter. Even then, in that short moment of infatuation with Finnick, it hurt to hear his true insecurities come out, that he had ever thought I wanted to see him suffer.

I remember shooting up at the thought, "To see you win," I gasped. My cheeks blushed as I thought of my outburst. I tried to collect myself. "You are, after all the superior Finnick Odair." It was all we could do to make jokes and pretend as if tomorrow would just be a normal day of chores, school, and rowing out to the bank to tie knots and sit carelessly on the bank until nightfall.

He had smiled warmly and he kept his eyes locked on the stars. When he thought I wasn't looking his eyes would flicker over to me, emerald eyes that glittered in the firelight. "Thanks Annie," He said quietly. He was like the prince little girls dreamed of. It was all we could do to pretend we believed in fairytales for one night, as children were supposed to.

And in that, I decided then, this side of Finnick was mine. I knew then, this was a side of Finnick rarely anyone ever saw, and that I had been the first that had know all about the young Finnick Odair. And remembering those moments in the short few hours with Finnick beside a driftwood fire, made me hate the next day all the more.


	4. Set Fire

**Set Fire to the Third Bar:** Snow Patrol. Happy Reading!

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><p>After the evening of mindless, yet happy chattering, we took the rowboat back to the shore and went our separate ways. The next morning, my mother had let me sleep in. She made me a small breakfast of poached eggs, fried fish, and toast, all my favorites. The reaping had always made her sick with worry. She would find me a pretty dress, wrap my hair up in some fancy braid or design, and then give me some of the makeup she had been given from a Capitol visitor for one of her better trades. This year she wrapped me up in a green cotton dress, the prettiest dress I had ever worn. It had intricate gold embroidery on the neck and at the bottom. It hugged my shapeless figure and as I entertained my mother with twirling, I remember feeling like a Capitol member, beautiful and extravagant and cultured. Mother didn't twist my hair this year; instead, she had left it in its natural wavy state and pushed back whatever fell into my eyes. She grabbed a wild flower Father had brought in to spruce up our small cottage kitchen and placed it in my hair, weaving the stem in with strands of hair.<p>

"You look beautiful," She whispered after making me look in the mirror. Each year she said just that and each year she'd shed a tear as I walked to District Four's Justice Building without her. All of the promising tributes gathered into the middle of the square that day, awaiting the announcement and ultimately the Reaping. The smog had lightened and the sun wasn't nearly as harsh that day. I hated being herded into the square, but with Reaping in the air, there was so much excitement and fear, it would have been foolish to rebel against orders. There wasn't a single peacekeeper who would have wanted to start a riot on Reaping Day. My heart was racing, but seeing Finnick forced my frown to exchange in place of a small smile. "Hey Cresta," He mouthed as we split, boys on one side of the square, girls on the other. He looked more handsome to me that day and seemed a little brawnier than usual. His hair had been combed back and he stood taller than the rest of the boys around him. The image of fourteen-year-old Finnick may be forever branded into my memory. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him until one of the Capitol officials jumped to the podium at the top steps of the Justice Building. "Good morning!" She greeted in a deep, thick Capitol accent. She was a strange character, tall and well-fed. Her hair was a deep sea green, in honor of representing District Four, I suppose and she had a pale blue tint to her skin, like a fish tangled in seaweed. I didn't much care for her, nor did I listen to her opening speech. I only waited the reaping. "Let's get started, shall we?" She gracefully dropped her hand into a glass bowl filled with tiny folded slips of paper. "And our female tribute…" She let the suspense build. My heart was drumming wildly against my chest. "Malta Roschbar." I let out a sigh of relief, as did several others around me.

I knew of Malta. She was much older than I was, ranking in at seventeen. She was a tall girl and had apparently been training for years for this very moment. She wore a smug grin, pushing her long blond hair out of her dull gray eyes. I remember she approached the stage confidently, and even with her head held high, you could see the fear in her quivering smile and steel gray irises. I said a little prayer for her, but was selfishly relaxed. The Capitol Official went on, "Any volunteers?" It was silent throughout the entire District. "Alright, moving on. Our male tribute…" I remember scanning the crowd of boys opposite of me. My worries weren't over just yet. She unfolded the slip of paper and my heart crumbled the instant she read the first syllable. "Finnick Odair."

I felt my heart sink to my stomach. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to race over to him as he approached the steps. I wanted to call out his name. "Finnick!" My mind was in a rage. "Finnick!" I hadn't moved an inch. The entire square went silent, including me. He approached the woman on the stage, shaking Malta's hand. "District Four, your tributes for the 65th Annual Hunger Games." The crowd cheered on cue, but my world fell quiet. As the square cleared, I turned to go home and mourn, until some new thought overtook me. I couldn't leave him. I had only loved him for such a short time; it didn't seem fair to not see him through. I stood in the square thinking of my next move. I threw the flowers from my hair, I ran to the marketplace, and into my mother's shop grabbing a small item and then running back to the Justice Building. A peacekeeper stopped me at the door. "Who are you here to see?" He asked me. His voice created a small fear in me that made me want to run back home, but I stood my ground.

"Finnick Odair," I sighed after working up the courage to talk.

The peacekeeper watched me from the protection of his white uniform, as if a small teenage girl was a threat. "Are you a friend of Mr. Odair?" He asked cautiously.

I gulped, nodding. "Yes."

He looked me over and a chill ran up my spine, "You have five minutes," He said authoritatively, shoving me through the door.

"Thank you," I whispered. I had slipped through the door, hardly breathing. The room was fairly empty except for a few chairs and one table, all adorned with something relating to the sea. But even with a room full of familiar ideas about home, it felt like a new, distant world countries away from District Four. He sat in a nice chair at the corner of the room. "Finnick," I breathed. He lifted his head and barely smiled at me.

"Hey Cresta," He greeted me with a half-hearted grin. A definite sadness was hanging in the air. I could hardly breathe, looking into his sad pretty eyes.

"Hey…How are you?" I asked, trying to keep a charming smile on my face. I pushed strands of caramel curls from my face, tucking the loose ends behind my ear. Finnick smiled half-heartedly.

"I guess we kind of saw this coming," He said sadly.

I frowned, my throat starting to close. "Kind of…" I said quietly. I walked over to him and he stood. He was so much so much taller than I was and I felt like my lungs might burst from despair. "Here," I extended my hand, my arm shaking with nerves.

He took the little token I had to offer with confusion. "Annie…what's this?" He asked unraveling the small gift.

I shrugged. "It's just a piece of rope. So…so you can practice," I stammered, nerves taking the best of me. My voice had been small, which had never occurred in front of Finnick before.

Finnick looked over the scrap piece of rope, "Oh thanks. It's great," Although gloom lingered in his voice, the gratitude couldn't be ignored.

I smiled weakly. "It's not. It's a piece of rope," I whispered.

Finnick laughed hollowly, he took the rope and tied it in a knot around his wrist. "Now I won't lose it…it'll be my token," He smiled and when I thought he was ready to say his final goodbyes to me, he didn't. His eyes became serious. "But Annie thanks still…for coming here. You might be my only friend," He chuckled sorrowfully.

I shook my head, confused yet flattered. "Surely, I'm not." But the truth was in his eyes. There hadn't been much of a line of people to see Finnick, other than his family. Even though he was loved throughout the District, love becomes sparse during Reaping season. I remember the first real promise we made to each other. I had been embarrassed of the request at first, but now I don't regret it. "But hey, Finn…" I started, staring up into the green eyes that watched me. He looked so much older than he really was. Because he was forced to be older than he actually was. "Come back, please."

Finnick smiled, "I will," He told me. My love for Finnick continued to grow since that moment.

"Do you promise?" I asked in a small whisper. My voice was close to breaking. I kept my tears to myself, crying later that day, not in front of him.

He embraced me, one thing I never imagined happening before that day. "Will you be waiting for me?" My heart leapt and a tear escaped, falling on his blue button up.

I pushed away from him, tried to laugh and hide my crying. "I'll race you to the bank when you get back," I said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

He hugged me again and this time tighter. "Thanks Annie," Finnick whispered, burying his head in my shoulder. I was in love with Finnick Odair, and I was his only friend.

"Just come home Finn," I said into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me fully, letting me know his newfound affection for me.

I could hear a small wisp of hope in his quietest remark. "I will."

The door opened. "Times up," a peacekeeper grunted.

Still wiping at falling tears, I gave him one last hug, "Good luck Odair," I said with a smile as a group of peacekeepers ushered me out the room.

"I'll see you soon Cresta," He said with a small smile. He was already twisting at the piece of rope tied to his wrist comfortably.


	5. Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

**Tomorrow Will Be Kinder:** The Secret Sisters.

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><p>My heart broke in several pieces that day. I remember running home only to lock myself in my room and cry until I fell asleep. My mother tried for weeks to comfort me, but the only comfort I took was in watching the Games. Every day after school, I was glued to our small television my mother kept on in our tiny family room in the center of the house. I still remember what Finnick was wearing in his first opening ceremony. They dressed him in what looked like a suit of fish scales, and even though the outfit didn't compare to most other outfits stylists would present at the opening ceremony, he still looked strikingly handsome. His training score was a nine. We would all gather around the television, begging that he would excel. Through this, the Crestas and Odairs were no longer enemies. His mother often showed up at our house for support. I sat quietly at the kitchen table whenever she came over. She would help make dinner with my mother and they would reminisce or apologize to each other or cry. My mother would often say, "I don't know how you're being so strong." And that would start several different sad conversations.<p>

When the interviews were aired, I remember gathering around the television with my parents and Finnick's, his brother was sitting close to me. Kane didn't see all of the interviews because he was out at the marketplace, selling what he caught. Finnick looked stunning in his royal blue suit, keeping with the ocean theme as always. He was charming when Caesar Flickerman asked his many questions. There were several cheers in the audience as Finnick had a marvelous fan base due to his good looks. I had listened carefully to everything he said. He seemed so confident…but he always had. "Do you like it here in the Capitol?" Caesar asked. Finnick nodded, raving on about the food and the beautiful scenery…including women. I felt a little sick at the idea of women throwing themselves at him, especially when I remembered that he was only fourteen and women of thirty were pining after him.

"But I do miss home," Finnick said quietly. And there he was…my Finnick. The vulnerable friend I had left on the banks that night.

Caesar, the creepy creature that hosted every Hunger Games interview, nodded, his lips hardly twitching from all the work done on his face to keep him young looking. "District Four must be beautiful." He said with a makeshift smile.

Finnick grinned, "It truly is." He let his auburn hair fall a little when he spoke. He seemed careless and confident that night. If I hadn't already fallen for him I might have fallen for him at some point during his interview, he was that charming.

"What do you miss most?" Caesar leaned in and the entire country of Panem seemed to as well.

Finnick sat back and thought for only a second. "Swimming," He answered coolly.

The crowd laughed. Finnick had looked directly at the camera and smiled a slightly crooked smile. It was the smile that always coupled with a witty remark like, "Keep your cool, Cresta." He was talking to me. I had made him a promise. Yes, I remembered every detail from those Games.

I remember the fight at the Cornucopia. Finnick was a skilled fighter, but I held my breath through the bloodbath. It was horrific. The cameras followed the girl tribute from District Two as she ran towards the golden horn. On the way, she had stabbed a girl, much smaller than her, slit a boy's throat, and speared another boy right through the heart. Her partnering tribute had also taken down three boys with his own weapons. Although I wanted to grieve those deaths, and my mother had already left the room in a petrified state, my eyes searched for Finnick. I couldn't find him. None of us could. My father searched, trying to keep Kane calm as children were slaughtered. Finnick's father was cradling his wife as tears streamed down her face. I sat on the edge of my chair, I bit my nails and kept praying that he'd be ok. But then out of the edge of the screen I caught a glimpse of auburn run past. Finnick.

He survived the bloodbath and ran towards a heavily wooded area. It made me nervous to see him stumble over the forest floor. He had a backpack with knives and spears, and he ran fast. Covered in black Finnick would camouflage himself during the night. There were evenings when my mother would have to force me to go to my room. But I didn't want to leave for fear he be dead in the morning. "Come on Finn," I would whisper into the night. Sometimes the fighting got so intense I'd run out to the shore and sit on the edge, waiting for the water to lap up and let it draw back taking all of my worries with it.

Anticipation nipped at me as the Games continued. Days went by when I rarely saw Finnick on the screen, but I'd watch every night for a new death. When I didn't see him my fingers would instinctively reach for a scrap piece of rope and I'd begin to let them nimbly work, tying knots to not worry over him. He was safe so far. There were some days when I caught him hunting, battling the elements, or battling a fellow tribute. But Finnick was never out of supplies. No, he was popular and everyone loved him, just like in District Four. He had his sponsors and they kept him safe. That was all I could hope for. There were a few days when he didn't find any fish in the nearby streams, when the streams would bubble and evaporate. He got sloppy. The other tributes would find him and he would have to fight them off, but he was smart. He knew how to use the knives and spears, which I'm sure his father taught him. By that point they had been in the arena for three months. My nerves swarmed and my heart would ache.

He was almost down on his luck when it came to good supplies like water, food, and weaponry. This made all of us nervous. We would crowd around our television set; the fire crackling was the only noise. There were some moments when we didn't even breathe we were anticipating his defeat. But his mentor proved us all wrong. One night a silver parachute dropped down and a trident was presented to Finnick. The Games changed from then on. Finnick fought, but this time he fought to win not to survive. He would spend the nights making knots and creating elaborate traps and nets, and whenever his prey would try to sneak up on him, he was a step ahead. Although I cheered for him, I shuddered at every brutal murder. He would trap them and then spear them with the trident. The remorse would never meet his eyes. That's when my Finnick left me.

To see the bloodlust in his eyes every time he took down another tribute, left me devastated and confused. Should I be happy for the boy who promised he would return to me, or should I be broken at his murderous ways? I chose to be happy for his survival but the ideas never quite left me.


	6. The World Turned

**The World Turned: **Gabe Dixon Band.

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><p>It had been four months. Finnick was so good though. He really was. He had outsmarted, outran, and out powered every tribute and came out a victor. After four long months of watching him fight for his life, we were finally relieved of our worries. "Oh my baby," His mother cried when he was lifted out of the arena. "My beautiful baby boy!" He was scheduled to come home two weeks after his victory. He had a few interviews left but I never watched them. Even seeing him on the screen made me hurt, I missed him so much. His family had been so excited, asking my family to help in preparing his coming home party. At the end of that week he was fifteen and fall approached us, making the water a little cooler and in some parts, much too cold to swim in. I remember becoming sad over the idea of him and his family moving farther away from us in the Victor's part of the District. But I wanted him home so much more that it didn't matter if he moved to the other side of the shore, at least knowing he was safe and within reach…was good enough at the time. We all went to the train station to greet him when he came home. Several people had lined up to see him home. They stood anxiously waiting the train's arrival, just like me. Malta's family were absent, grieving I'm sure.<p>

When Finnick got off the train that day, he was grinning. He waved as they do in the Capitol, as if he had been graced with the highest honor…although I've heard of several victors that weren't proud of what they had done in the arena, Finnick didn't seem to be bothered. He embraced his family and mine, Thomas his good friend, and lastly me. It was nothing like the moment in the Justice Building. This wasn't my Finnick. We went home that night and threw him his celebration. Many people congratulated him, hugged him, shook hands with him, and fawned over him. Girls threw themselves at him. "Oh Finnick, you're so brave!" "Oh Finnick, you're so strong!" "Were you scared?" "You were so great!" "We should sneak out…" on and on they went. My temper rose and as I was about to confront him, I had lost him. Maybe in the crowd, maybe to a more important person, either way I didn't see if fit to stay cooped up in our small, crowded cottage any longer.

The sea was calling my name. I remember walking out on the sand, feeling the grains between my feet and the cool night air calming me as it rose from off the ocean's tide. I walked to the small pools where our nets usually were and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a dark figure sitting only inches away from the water. It was a familiar shape huddled in the darkness with only the moon to serve as proper light. I crept up on the figure. "Finn…?" I breathed quietly.

The figure moved slightly. "Oh. Hey Annie," He said somberly. Finnick kept his eyes focused on the waves that would curl over and fold in on themselves.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked quietly, wrapping my sweater tighter around me, and sat down beside him. I still remember the feel of the night air. How cool it was, refreshing.

Finn didn't speak for a while, "Thinking I guess." He finally said with a sigh. He seemed to shiver so I sat closer to him. Normally, then, we wouldn't have been so close, but I guess being so far apart for so long made this new closeness ok.

"Are you ok?" I asked, watching his face, his green eyes never moving. His features were harder now, older, scarred.

"I think so," He nodded, still watching the ocean dance. He looked at me for only a second and then went back to the ocean.

We were quiet for what seemed like hours. "Happy Birthday," I finally told him, in hopes he would speak again. I had missed his voice. I had missed everything about him. "I wish I had gotten you a present," I shrugged with a bothered frown as I watched the ocean with him.

He chuckled quietly, bumping into me to get my attention. "You already did," He said lifting up his arm to show off his wrist. The piece of rope still clung to his wrist, the dirty old, ratty 'gift' that he never once got rid of.

I shook my head with a soft smile. "That's not a real gift."

Finnick was quiet. "It was to me." My heart melted at his pain. I hated that night with his lost stare and confusion about home. "Annie thanks for teaching me to net." I had noticed him unwrap the rope from his wrist and start fidgeting with it. His nervousness bothered me.

I moved to kneel in front of him and slowly pulled his fingers off the rope, taking his hands in mine. "You did great Finn," I said staring into the sea green eyes that never flinched or threatened me. They weren't menacing eyes like those that you'd expect from a victor but eyes of softness and worry, kind eyes that I knew and have loved over the years.

He broke our contact, "It was awful," He said with a quiet, low whimper. My heart sank. His hands started to move again, twisting and knotting the rope. He watched the waves or the sand but never me.

The night was completely still for only a second. The wind danced carelessly and picked up light objects like strands of my hair or dried leaves. "Do you want to…to talk about it?"

He shook his head at my offer. "No."

I was desperate to help him. "Ok," I said, trying to understand, trying to find ways to bring him out of the dark confines of his own mind. "Do you want to swim?" I asked quietly.

Finnick watched me with cautious eyes. "It's cold out there and the waves are too dangerous and it's night time…" He lectured, as if I hadn't known. But I knew Finnick better than that. He wanted to go.

I grinned with a small laugh, "So do you want to swim?" I asked lifting an eyebrow.

And there it was…Finnick's crooked smile. "Annie?" He asked carefully, a little taken aback.

I pulled him to his feet, "I made a promise to you Odair. I said if you came back home I'd race you to the bank." Finnick seemed tentative for the first time in his life.

He watched the waves. "No more races….but I do want to swim. Really bad," He said with a small, even a little guilty, smile.

I smiled back, taking my sweater off. "Then we'll swim…" I said. "I wouldn't want to have to beat you in a race this close to you being named victor of the 65th Hunger Games." I walked towards the water not worrying that my shorts and top stuck to me or the unnecessary weight that was added to us by our heavy clothes.

Finnick laughed, picking me up and spinning me around at the edge of the water. "Still think you're better than me, Cresta?" He said, superiorly as he tossed me into the water. The waves were cold, but ignored. We were laughing for the first time in months and he was happy.

"No. Not at all," I said jokingly, but in my mind, the phrase played on repeat. I could have never done what Finnick had done and survive, and I was grateful that he was so much better than I was.


	7. Holding Out For a Hero

**Holding Out For A Hero: **Ella Mae Bowen version.

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><p>For the few weeks that we had together before his Victor's Tour, we spent swimming or just rowing to the bank. I would get home from school and he would be waiting by the shore for me. Even in our time together, Finnick never brought up the games. We spoke of other things, like fishing or schoolwork. Sometimes I would read to him. Like my favorite books from before the dark days that my mother kept. They were old but still good stories. Most of them were love stories, but Finnick didn't mind listening to them. He liked the one about the girl and boy who fell in love but the girl mistook the boy for proud so she avoided him at first, but eventually they both saw they were wrong and were happily married. It was sweet, but a little silly. When I didn't read to him, Finnick would tell me about music. I loved how animated he became when he spoke about it. He would tap out beats and hum melodies. He had a beautiful singing voice. There were days when Finnick wouldn't want to talk. In fact, he would sit on the edge of the bank and stare at the ocean for hours, sometimes not even acknowledging I was there until nightfall. He would get upset and angry. He would refuse to talk to me, and most days I would wait until the storm passed. I would wait on him. But some days I would get angry too. And hurt. And frustrated. One day, Finnick became terribly angry and violent. He threw rocks in the ocean and growled obscenities. "Finnick…" I tried to reason with him but he didn't calm down. Instead, he sat down and just watched the sea. I got bored waiting. So I sang. The melody was simple, there were only a few notes to it. I hummed most of it to myself. The part about the girl falling in love with the boy, the part about the boy being trapped by another engagement, the part about they're sad departure from each other, drowning together.<p>

"_Waves of anger and tides of rage, _

_Washing over the sands of sage, _

_Oh my love, trapped in this cage, _

_Please set me free, my dear._

_I'll set you free my dear."_

I sang, searching the beach for seashells and hiding them in my hands. I had blocked Finnick from my thoughts, mad that he had gotten so angry with me.

It grew quiet; I sat down taking a string from my pocket and stringing the shells along. "Annie…" Finnick breathed. There was more to his sentence, I could sense it but he just fell quiet.

"Yes Finnick?" I asked him.

He sat down beside me, with an inquisitive look. "What was that?" His mood had calmed dramatically.

I shrugged, looking up for a short second to meet wondering green eyes. "Some song my mother taught me," I told him, only looking at the chipped shells in my hand. I tossed them to the side, unhappy with my work.

He inched closer to me. "What's it about?" We both leaned back into the hills of sand, staring up at the cloudy sky.

I sighed, "It's about two lovers at sea," I told him breathlessly. It made me sad to think about them, two lovers so in love, choosing their fate, and then sacrificing everything for each other. I looked at Finnick, he seemed to be thinking the song over.

"It was nice," He muttered.

If only he had known the entire song…he might have thought different. I especially didn't appreciate the morbid meaning until later. "Are you ok?" I had asked him, curious and worried.

"I'm sorry," He told me. And he would keep telling me that exact phrase. Every time he got lost, I would sing and he would always remember where he was, whom he was with, or what he was doing.

And each time I told him, "It's ok, Finn…I know." I always meant that. Even when I wanted to be mad at him, I meant that.

"I don't want to go on this tour," Finnick told me one day after we had shared a melody together.

I frowned, "I don't want you to go." I took a deep breath and continued with, "But you have to. And then you can come back and we'll do this."

Finnick looked up at me from tying a rope in knots and smiled, "Swim?"

I smirked at him, "Yeah. And talk. And sing. And laugh." I said finally, wanting all the more to hear his laughter. He rarely did anymore. And that's how he left me. Angry and alone. I remember him leaving that cool day. The tide was harsh and the wind was sharp. I woke up that cloudy morning, my heart aching and stomach churning.

"Are you alright, Annie?" My mother asked, stretching out her hand to feel my forehead. "You look so pale my dear." My being unable to sleep had sparked my mother's worry.

I nodded my head, "I'm fine mama," I told her quietly.

"Are you going to see Finnick off?" She asked, preparing father's tea for when he came in from the sea.

"I guess I have to." I said. I never raised my voice, not for the entire conversation. I wanted to be as quiet as a mouse, because then maybe no one would notice that I wanted to scream. Maybe they wouldn't notice my exasperation. I left early and told my mother I'd meet her at the station to see him go along with the rest of the district, but I had to see him first. I had to see him face to face.

I knocked on the door of his new home, no one heard since the Capitol crowd outshone me. There were cameras waiting for him, stylists who had just finished with him. Laughing, giggling, and babbling on about the handsome, famous, wondrous Finnick Odair, but he was nowhere to be found. "Finnick!" I called out, searching behind the house, near the wharf. I walked passed large rocks that jutted from the dunes to the nicer part of the beach, unlike the parts of the shore we usually inhabited.

He looked up. He was so handsome it sent my heart racing. "Annie?" He answered blindly, finally spotting me. The way he said my name gave me chill bumps. He dwelled in the tide. I rolled up the legs of my pants to join him, but the water was ice cold. Finnick stood in it like it was a warm bath. I leaped from the water and focused back on him.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing here?" I asked, shivering. It was much too cold to be out near the water, unless you were safely tucked in a boat and wearing the warm, protective suits our fathers' usually dawned this time of year.

Finnick smirked at my reactions and shook his head. "I needed some fresh ocean air," He told me as a large gust of wind and tide drowned out his words.

I took in a deep breath expecting the salty air that I had grown up on and instead caught a strong scent that was quiet unfamiliar…Capitol cologne. "You won't find that here." I said frowning. It was a sweet scent, not entirely unpleasant, but very much overpowering.

Finnick chuckled and pulled his white button up to his nose, wrinkling it and laughing with me. He pushed his hair back to bring back some composure, but I kept laughing and eventually he did too. Finnick suddenly turned to me, "Mags said I'll be home soon." It's as if he could see how much I missed him. Like it was evident on my face. Surely, he couldn't? "What do you do to keep your mind off things?"

I smiled warmly, or as sweetly as I could. "Tie knots," I said quietly. His hand swiftly grazed over where his rope bracelet was and I let my hand meet his, keeping the most sincere expression of joy I could muster. His collar folded over so I reached up to pat it down. I backed away from him to get a full view of him…he was wonderful. I let a small solemn smile cross my face and added more gusto for fear he'd see my heart break. "They're going to love you." I told him, grinning.

He watched me with some concern and without missing a beat, allowed his insecurities to swallow him up one last time before he had to build his walls of confidence. "They will?"

"Yeah…how could they not?" I asked, placing the first stone at the foot of the wall. I wanted him to be strong before them…so he wouldn't falter, so he wouldn't hurt, so he would come back to me. His pretty green eyes tried to stay lit with the same fire and pride I had remembered from long ago, but his hope had gone and fear had replaced it. I hugged him and held him close. It was stupid to become so vulnerable on that beach, but that's what we both were… vulnerable, weak and wounded children, hiding in the only place of safety we knew.

"Annie, I'm going to miss you," He told me, leaning down and burying his face in my hair. My heart ripped into shreds, leaving my chest with an empty, hollow feeling. I wish I had never had Finnick Odair in my possession. They started calling his name and I knew he had to face the cameras and the adoring fans.

"I'm going to miss you too Finn," I whispered, but he was already unwrapping himself from my arms. He smiled at me one last time and then walked up to them. I never met them at the station. Instead, I sat by the cold ocean and let my heart break. Tears fell because I knew I should have told him, but my pride stopped me. I was embarrassed by my silly-crying schoolgirl performance, but then also by my jaded old heart that had aged before it was meant to. I was a young girl with the wisdom of a young woman. Because although I knew it wasn't wise, I couldn't keep myself from falling hopelessly in love with the boy who I had thought so proud. I fell in love with the boy who had gone, conquered, and came back incomplete. I knew then, that day that I had fallen in love with the boy with the trident. And it broke my heart.


	8. Cest La Mort

**Cest La Mort: **The Civil Wars.

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><p>Months passed without him. I would stand on the shore each day as if I thought he would come home by boat, or in the sea. He of course never did. It was silly that I would hope so much everyday and then face a painful disappointment. On my birthday, I had wished for him. If I saw a shooting star, I would wish for him. It was silly, so terribly crazy of me…I wouldn't have hoped or wished or waited for anyone else. But I couldn't help but sit and wait for my Finnick to return. Every day I'd walk out to the shore and just walk the beach, and every day I'd go back home and dwell in an impending sadness. Although I tried to make it seem as if nothing had been wrong, I knew my parents could tell. "Annie, darling, are you alright?" My mother would ask. They would all watch me with sympathetic eyes, but I pretended as if nothing had been wrong. I pretended as if Finnick's absence hadn't taken any toll on me. I was only fooling myself. "This is about Finnick," My father said to me one day. I had gone to the pools to check on our nets and he was already sitting on the edge of one, staring into the water.<p>

"What Papa?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, Annie…You can't hide anything from your mother…and if I've caught on, you know you haven't been very discreet," Father chuckled. "You miss Finnick." I began to defend myself, but he stopped me. "Listen Annie, I know we Crestas have had quite a past with the Odairs but even I won't deny the good that's come from us all putting business aside. So, don't you." He said gently, tugging at the nets and then placing them back in the water. He told me to help him and I did, tugging at the end closest to me.

"I just don't want to miss him Papa," I sighed as I pulled at the net. We had caught enough to sell to the Capitol, the people of District Four, and have a small helping left on our table.

My father chuckled again. "Why not?" His dark hair had begun to go grey, and his smile was aged. My father, the man with few words always knew what to say.

I felt silly asking, but I did, "Because what if he doesn't come back?" It was a childish question and I was ashamed just asking, so I stared at the net with wriggling fish.

My father kneeled at the rocks of the pool taking the still fish and tossing them in a pail. "He'll come back, don't worry darling." He smiled and I never felt so much love for my father. He had wittingly just given his approval of Finnick and knowingly encouraged it.

"Thanks Papa." A genuine smile crossed my lips and my father dropped the net giving me a brief hug, a kiss on top of the head, and an accolade that went along the lines of "That's my girl."

From then on, being without Finnick didn't seem as painful. Unfortunately, enough there were days when I thought pangs of missing him would destroy me. But then, there were terrifying days when I didn't miss him, didn't think about him, just forgot about him. I hated those days the most, but he had been gone for so long I eventually grew to live without him again. I was a year older when he came back home, but he had only been home for a week and most of that time had been spent with some Capitol guest or at a party thrown by the Capitol at the Justice Building. We didn't get to speak that week, except for one night when he had snuck out of his house to see me.

He tapped on the back door of my cottage and I crept through the kitchen to greet him without waking my parents. He told me he missed me, told me that I would love the Capitol, but I disagreed. I didn't like anything that came from the Capitol. Finnick said it took getting used to but didn't press the issue. So instead, we laughed about the ridiculous things people of the Capitol would do. We laughed about some of his interviews and how silly they seemed. He would tell me secrets that he would hear in his dressing rooms or jokes that he thought deserved to be told again. He had smiled at me constantly and when the night became quiet and the dawn was approaching, we said our goodbyes. I wanted to cry when we went our separate ways. "Goodbye Annie." He said with a solemn smile. And I waved, walking away with tears in my eyes. _Don't go without me. _I thought as I walked home, without him. He left that morning and didn't come back for another six months.

When he did come back, it was reaping again. He stood on stage beside Mags, the older woman who had mentored him, uncomfortably. But he pretended he belonged. I stood in the crowd, nervous, but safe. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to speak with him while his new tributes were being prepared. He left again, only to come back two months later when his tributes were brutally murdered. Finnick wouldn't talk much then. He seemed disturbed by something but would never tell me. He did insist on spending time together though. So between reaping we would spend time together trying to talk about the easier things in life, but that became difficult as easy things started disappearing more and more each day. Instead, we would fish and swim and sometimes we would just sit on the bank and joke about silly things that used to be. And when he was there, I loved him, but when he left I was broken. It was after my sixteenth birthday that I knew I had to move on. Finnick and I stayed separated and although I hated not being around him, I knew no hatred of our situation would change a thing. I wouldn't ever have Finnick Odair.

So, I stopped. I stopped wondering about him, I stopped searching to learn about how he was, I stopped asking questions, thinking about him, wanting him…I hadn't watched the parties much on television. I hadn't kept up with his appearances, or his interviews, or his flaunting. I grew to forget Finnick Odair and some days that would hurt me, but some it was like any other scar that appears on the surface of the skin.

I was out near the docks one day. I had spent most of my time with old school friends that I had neglected over the years. They willingly accepted me back, asking me usually about Finnick and what he was like, if they could talk to them, if I thought he was cute or if I loved him. I would answer their questions, and usually with a no. It had been a long afternoon of talks about when he'd come home or who would be next…because after all, reaping was just a few months away. I tried to ignore it. I walked home from the wharf and let them gaggle on. And when I was hoping my mother would be greeting me, another face appeared instead.


	9. Falling In Love

**Falling in Love:** Ingrid Michaelson Version.

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><p>"Hey Cresta," His voice shot through me like an arrow. I froze. My nerves overwhelmed me. I remember glancing over at the back door of the cottage. There Finnick stood, tall, lanky but more muscular, older, and as handsome as ever, relaxed in my kitchen. Eighteen-year-old Finnick was a sight to see compared to thirteen-year-old Finnick.<p>

I gasped, as if my heart threatened to stop. I ran to him, pushing past chairs and shelves that got in my way. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest, hiding in his grey t-shirt. "Oh Finnick!" I suppressed tears as he pulled me closer.

Finnick laughed, which had been unexpected but very much welcome. "I expected a bigger party, but I guess you and me will do." He said, holding me in a new, unfamiliar, but also welcomed way.

I pushed away, rolling my eyes, "You're a charmer Odair." I laughed, watching him push back his handsome auburn hair. My heart raced and I knew my cheeks were burning with a scarlet red.

He smiled, beaming ear to ear, "As I've been told," He said, telling me to sit. "So you're another year older now?" He asked as he pulled out one of the old wooden chairs that stood beside the kitchen table. I sat down gracefully, letting my skirt fall beside me.

"And I only get older," I said smartly, but with a grin as I kept my eyes locked on him.

Finnick was in an odd mood that day. He was usually grins but today he was ecstatic about something, which was a very different outlook from since I last saw him. He sat down beside me and passed me a little box. "Well, happy seventeenth birthday Annie."

I looked down at the small cardboard box and then back up at him. "What's this?" I asked quietly, slowly reaching for the box and then carefully taking the lid from it. "Wow," I breathed. "This…this is beautiful." Inside was a small gold band twisted up like a knotted rope. It glittered in the setting sun. The gold ring was so small and dainty, I was afraid to take it from the box for fear I lose it. "Finnick, I can't take this. It's too much," I said, terrified to touch the pretty, little ring, afraid that it would simply crumble at my touch. I closed the box and slid it across the table.

Finn caught it and slid it back, "It was just something I thought you might like, and I want you to have it." His smile was genuine and his gaze was soft.

"Thank you Finn," I breathed, staring at the little trinket. All I could do was smile. Finnick grinned, laughing with me. He placed the ring on my finger, made some silly joke that kept me giggling. He watched me with a small smirk, and then escaped from his mind to find me again.

"I've really missed you Annie," He sighed. I grabbed him a small plate of fruits and breads and a cup of tea.

"I've really missed you Finn," I answered, my heart dropping in guilt that I had practically abandoned him in the last year. Finnick still hadn't fully adjusted and that was obvious. He, although suave for the world to see, was absolutely broken in front of me. And I couldn't blame him for it. "What's bothering you?" He fiddled with his mug and then retracted.

I searched his eyes, his movements… he was hiding. "It's just been tougher than I expected…being a victor," He sighed, beautiful eyes wrecked in front of me. "That's stupid, isn't it?" He asked me with a fallen smile.

I watched him sadly, pushing my hand through my hair. "No. We all expect fame and glory." I told him quietly. Secretly, before the actual games had happened I recall being a little jealous of Finnick and the adoration he found in the Capitol.

"There is that…" He said, becoming more distant as we talked.

I reached across the table to graze his hands. "So what's wrong?"

He shook his head, his eyes no longer focused. "It's more than that," He told me quietly. "Do you want to swim?" He asked now refocused, but strangely distracted. His beautiful sea green eyes bore into me with genuine happiness and curiosity. My Finnick was somewhere here. I nodded biting my lip as a soft smile flitted across my lips. Finnick returned the smile with a devilish grin and took my hand.

We ran down to the ocean shore we always visited. It was deserted as it usually was. In the rush, I realized my dress wasn't suitable to swim in, the long white skirt would have been destroyed and my mother would have been furiously angry. I was hesitant, but Finnick only smiled. He peeled off his grey shirt, leaving it in the sand, as well as his shorts. Finnick stood in front of me practically naked all expect his boxer shorts. I laughed, trying not to stare. He smiled, "Do you find this distracting?" He asked me posing ridiculous poses. I giggled knowing that even in the falling sun my crimson blush was noticeable. "Alright, your turn Cresta." He said, lifting his brow at me.

I giggled, and threw my hands up in protest. "No!" I shouted while laughing. I shook my head and tried to hide my face from him so he wouldn't see me redden.

He approached me and took my hands from my face and laughing. "Are you scared?" He chuckled. Finnick let me go and then tauntingly looked back at me while stepping in the ocean's waves.

I frowned and then took his mocking bet. "No!" I swiftly stripped from my dress, leaving me in only my undergarments. I tried not to notice Finnick's smug grin. I tried to ignore my embarrassment and I walked over to the water. It was warmer than it had been all year. The waves were calm for this time of night. He laughed and then began to splash around in the water, sometimes floating but mostly going under the waves. That's where we met. I would sink under water and see him, resting on the sandy floor of the ocean, his wavy auburn locks dancing across his face or above him as he swam towards me. In the privacy of the sea, we would lock hands. When we resurfaced Finnick instinctively grabbed me. He picked me up in his arms and spun me by the waist. We spent the night laughing and playing in the sea as if we were children. We floated in the sea, as if propelled by dreams of how things should have been. When the waves became restless, we did too and our night swim became an adventure. I didn't go home that night. We trekked through patches of forest. We hid in the moonless night, the dark acting as our secret-keeper. He led me by the hand to an old cottage where his family once resided. It was quiet there. It was safe there. It was our hideout when the ocean couldn't be anymore. While we walked, Finnick would turn to look at me and I could see a feeling for me hidden there. But I knew, even if it was the thing I hoped for most, for Finnick to love me back, we wouldn't make it. We were doomed. Because this love was our wine, and it was poisoned. And I couldn't help but drink from the cup.


	10. Poison and Wine

**Poison and Wine: **The Civil Wars.

* * *

><p>Finnick's house was empty. His parents stayed in the Victor's mansion now. He was rarely home anyways. The house was cold and we shivered with our clothes in our hands. Finnick wrapped a towel around me, and then one around himself. He walked over to the old fireplace in the den and began working on a small fire to dry our clothes and keep us warm. My heart leapt at each glance he gave me. When he cradled me in his arms for warmth, I thought I would break from pure happiness. We sat on the worn couch in the comfort of being alone, with each other. I rested my head on his chest, breathing in the salt off his skin and listening to the beating of his heart. He pushed my hair back, letting his fingers run easily through the soft messy curls. We talked about silly things as always, until I felt very guilty. "Finnick, what's going on?" I asked quietly.<p>

He stopped breathing for only a second; his fingers trembled as they ran through my hair. "What do you mean Annie?" His voice was calm, like the still waters of a marsh.

I sank into his arm, watching the fire. "Why do we do this?" I asked as sadness extended a cold hand to my happy heart. It had been the moment with Finnick I used to dream about. It had been a moment I had fallen back in love with my Finnick, and all I could do was measure the sadness and watch it outweigh any moment Finnick and I had ever found peace.

"What?" He asked once his breathing had calmed and his fingers had gone back to their natural pattern.

I sat up slightly, looking him in the eye. "This? Right here," I sighed desperately. "Talk about everything, share everything, and then leave with nothing," My heart broke saying it aloud.

Finnick watched me with a strange bewilderment. He pushed back a curl that fell in my eyes. "I don't know what you mean Annie," He breathed, watching my own green eyes with his.

I sat upright. "Finn…come on. We both know _this_, us…won't work," I told him, exasperated.

That's when I recall Finnick's sad eyes the most. It was that moment that I knew Finnick had wanted me more than he had ever intended. "Why not?"

"Because I can't stand when you leave me," I explained in a small whimpering voice. I stared into the fire, watching the flames dance around as if Finnick and I were never there, as if none of this were happening.

"That's a good thing isn't it?" Finnick asked still attempting to hold me close to him.

I sank into him again. "No," I whispered, burying my face in his naked chest.

Finnick shifted and sank down to meet me, the tip of his nose level with mine. "If it's fair, I don't like leaving you," He said with a small smile, locking his hand under my jaw and hooking his fingertips around my ear.

"But you will," I told him, wrapping my hand around his as if to hold him here forever. However, my grip was never strong and things in District Four rarely ever stay secure when the tides are high.

He let his forehead touch mine with his lips dangerously close to mine. "Because I have too…" He looked me in the eyes and let his thumb stroke over my cheek, involuntarily I smiled sorrowfully, but Finnick was more serious than ever. "But I never want to," He said, but instead of moving in like I had expected him to, he pulled away from me. He sank down on the couch again and I went with him, and we were back to where we started. And although I wasn't content with our conversation, I was ok with leaving it there for now. I just wanted to be close to him. "Annie?" His voice filled the quiet room, echoing with the crackling flames.

"Yeah Finn?" I asked wrapping the towel tighter around me and letting my hand rest on his chest.

"Do you wait for me?"

I felt my heart drop slightly out of guilt. "I used to. But we were young…so then I didn't think anything of it," I let my quiet answer ring honestly.

"Of me," He answered for me, dejected. We fell silent again.

My lower lip began to quiver. It was as if I never loved him all over again. "You weren't coming home," My voice broke and I felt pathetic.

But Finnick was never condescending, his tone was never harsh, he was always good. "I'm home now," He told me, wrapping his arms tighter around me. In another round of silence he asked, "Annie, will you do me a favor?"

A few tears fell on his skin as I spoke, "Anything Finn." I felt silly for crying, but he was so good and I had essentially abandoned him. He didn't give his request right away. I looked up at him, and he smiled softly, although there was despair lingering on his lips. He wiped the tears from my face with his thumb and pushed back my hair as I rested my chin on his chest.

"Wait for me?" He asked, his voice breaking along with mine.

I wrapped both of my arms around him and put my cheek to his chest. I let my lips brush over his heart as I sank back to the space between him and the couch he had reserved for me. "Always," I told him, staring at the gold band on my right hand. We didn't talk after that; instead, I drifted off into a dreamless slumber, my subconscious broken by the shriveling hopes of my heart. I would always wait for him.


	11. Holocene

**Holocene:** Bon Iver.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I woke up alone on Finnick's couch. I sat up, looking for him but instead found a note telling me he had been called away on Capitol business and didn't want to wake me. My heart sank, it shouldn't have. Really, this moment was inevitable. Finnick could never truly be mine, now could he? He did come back twice or three times a month and we would relive that one night. Months of torment passed. Whenever he was gone, my fingers would pine for him, reaching and grasping at air. When I saw him, my heart would skip to a strange tune. When we were together, he would beg me to be closer. I would hold his face, search his eyes and beg him to come back to me when he was lost. It was when he came home from the Capitol he would be lost the most. He could never focus, he could never come back to me as my Finnick. He was otherwise some arrogant mutation created by the Capitol or a broken man wallowing in delusions. "Finnick, come back to me," I would plead. He only became himself by the ocean, if I sang to him, or if I held him. "Come back," I whispered. But there were days he never would.<p>

Watching him switch from arrogance to devastation tortured me. It was one day when he came home after enchanting a VIP member from the Capitol that I grew angry. Angry at his manic personalities and his silly promises, he would call for me, promising me a day for him and me and then he would never show. There was always a visitor to be wooed from the Capitol or some urgent errand he had to tend to. I sat by the shore as he had asked me to earlier that morning. The day was long and he never came to the bank. I walked up to the cottage, only to marinate in my anger. Finnick didn't show up until late that afternoon. "Annie!" He shouted happily trying to hug me in greeting as my kitchen door slammed behind him. I frowned turning away from him. "Annie, what's wrong?" He asked, hurt.

I spat at this new direction of his attitude. "What's wrong?" I growled scouring dirty pots and pans mother left in the sink before leaving this morning. "You've kept me hanging on, you've asked me to wait for you, you've asked me again and again to come to you and be around you, and you're the one who never shows," I said tossing a pot back into the dishwater, letting the waves splash over the sink. "Why are you doing this to me?" I shouted, louder than I had intended.

Finnick looked genuinely upset, and it was a moment I still, to this day am not proud of. He watched me with the one look of distaste that I hated. The look I had received when I insulted his intentions before he was tossed in the Games arena. "I'm not leaving you intentionally Annie…" He said quietly.

But in anger, I went on, pouting like a child. "No, you're not Finnick. You just leave whenever you consider something more important. Like when you're called off to the Capitol and you can't be bothered to tell me, or when some VIP from the Capitol is hauled in, you're the one who gives them the grand tour." And although my anger was justified I knew I had crossed the line. I knew Finnick was better than I had portrayed him, I knew this adjustment for him was still difficult even after five years of practice, but I was furious. Why couldn't I ever have him to myself? Why couldn't he ever be just mine? Why did I have to share him? Did he even love me? I was a fool to wait around for the boy who could never love me…did he even want me? Or was I just something to keep him occupied when the beautiful women of the Capitol weren't around?

"Because they ask me to Annie!" He shouted, my fury resounding.

In a moment without control, I wrapped my hands around his jaw, "Well, I'm asking you to stay with me," I begged, my hands trembling and voice breaking.

He shook me away and whether it was anger or heartbreak, my body began to shake uncontrollably. "I can't," He told me harshly.

"And why not?" My voice was strained and tears began to prick at my eyes.

Finnick looked as desperate as I must have sounded, "Because I have to go with these people."

"Why Finnick? Why do you have to go?" I breathed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

He looked exasperated. "I just do," He breathed pushing his hair back. He sat down at the kitchen table and I crossed the room to the doorway, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Because of your admirers…" I sighed, dejected.

Finnick watched me in disbelief. "What?" He shook his head, "…What? No. No…that's not it at all."

I lifted an eyebrow, "No?" A harsh grimace pulled at my lips and I let my head rest again the doorframe, tears still falling silently.

Finnick shot up from his chair, knocking it to the floor. He was furious with me for something I couldn't truly understand then. Maybe it was a guilt, or truth, or whatever you want to call it...that's what I thought at least. "You think you're so smart don't you Cresta? Think you can read everyone, that you know everything about everyone?" He snapped and I felt my body cave in. My cheeks flushed as Finnick watched me.

I shook my head, "No. But I do know you and this isn't you," I breathed shakily.

Finnick walked to me, holding my hand. "This is all of him that I have left," His eyes were empty but he offered me a small apologetic smile.

I watched him, still pleading, hand wrapping around the back of his neck. "Come back to me Finnick," I whispered.

He shook his head, pressing his forehead to mine, "I have nothing to give you Annie."

"I'm not asking for anything Finn. Just you," I sighed, letting him go. "What's going on with you?"

Finnick walked around the room, shaking his head. "I can't tell you," He told me again and again.

I reached after him, taking his hands and trying to be genuine with my promises, "I can handle it." But I knew I couldn't.

"It would hurt you," He promised me, knowing me better than what I was willing to admit.

I dropped his hands and walked away from him again, this time to the sink, leaning on the edge. "This hurts me," I told him harshly.

Finnick ran his hand through his bronze locks, "You're stubborn," He said frowning and furrowing his eyebrows.

"Just tell me," I pleaded quietly. But I thought I knew the answer. It seemed obvious…it was in the way he looked at me, "It's me, isn't it?"

He looked shocked again, "What? Annie…" he sighed, frustrated with me.

My heart sank and I felt like I would crash to the floor just admitting my insecurities aloud. "I'm not what you want Finn. It's ok, I don't blame you. I'm not them. I'm not extravagant, or beautiful, or…those women." I had never been this girl. I had never been so weak to where I couldn't look Finnick Odair in the eyes, but I wouldn't dare glance over at him.

"Annie…No, that's ridiculous," He said, this time more forceful.

I turned to him finally, "Well is it? Really?"I asked gently.

There was a small stretch of silence. "I…I-I don't know," He told me, running his hand through his hair again and then picking up the fallen chair. He sat back down again and we kept our distance.

I couldn't stop my lips in time before they let the words pass, "Do you even want me?" I took a deep breath waiting for only a few seconds, my body aching like I was suffering from a bad cold. "You know what…don't-don't answer that," I said shuddering at my worst fear.

He shook his head. "Annie, you're being silly." He was truly irritated with me, angry at me, I could see it in his deadening eyes.

I laughed hollowly, a sorrowful smile crossing my lips as tears streamed down my face. "I'm not though. You don't know what it's like to be left here waiting…" I cried, turning back to the sink.

"I do Annie, you just don't get it," Finnick told me as if things would be made right and left at me not understanding.

"Well, help me get it," I asked in a hushed prayer.

And I knew, without looking, Finnick had his head in his hands, absolutely desperate for an answer other than the one he had to offer. "I can't." It was simple my next move.

I opened the kitchen door and left it ajar. I stood in the opening, "Then I can't wait for you anymore Finn." And he left. It was over, he and I. I took the ring I had grown accustom to wearing and placed it back in the box, keeping it on my nightstand and sometimes looking at it before I went to sleep at night. He was gone.


	12. Be Still

**Be Still: **The Fray.

* * *

><p>I didn't see him again, until Reaping. My mother was relieved it was my last. After today, I would be safe from the Hunger Games. She dressed me in a simple white dress and made me the prettiest I had ever been for a Reaping. She watched me walk down to the Justice Building, this time with a hopeful excitement. Her torture was almost over. We lined up in our normal sections. I was anxious but so excited to never have to participate in this awful gathering of children again. I was almost safe. Our official placed her hand in the glass bowl. She licked her purple chapped lips before reading the name. I was almost safe. I had almost escaped it, until the official called <em>my<em> name. "Our female tribute…Annie Cresta." I felt sick. There was a scream and I knew my mother was sobbing in the crowd behind me. I walked up to the platform, body trembling, heart pounding, all eyes on me. He watched me from his seat, but I refused to look at him. Instead, I waited. My hands were raw from wringing them so tightly. I felt like I had gone deaf, I couldn't hear the official anymore. I couldn't hear my mother's sobbing. I heard nothing but watched Thomas Reed, Finnick's best friend walk to the platform. Fear ensnared me letting a cold chill drift over my body. I became unaware of the crowds as panic took me over. I could barely breathe. My hands felt heavy. Peacekeepers grabbed my wrists, held my shoulders, and walked me to the back of the platform. I was escorted away into the Justice Building where I waited for my last goodbyes. My breathing had calmed slightly, almost to a point where it stopped. The room was the same as the one Finnick had been placed in. I sat patiently in the hall where my death sentence was carried out. I was quiet and on the outside, calm, but my mind raged like a terrible storm. Questions and terror whirred through my mind, and I couldn't think past that angry haze. My hands wouldn't stop the constant wringing motion, but without rope they were useless. The ring on my right hand cut into my fingers. The doors to the familiar room burst open.

"Annie!" He shouted, running to me. A rush of relief ran through me. He held me tighter than he ever had before. I breathed in his familiar scent, sea salt and cologne. I buried my face in his shirt and stood very still.

"Finn, I can't do this," I whispered, "I can't."I shook my head, hiding my face.

Finnick lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. "You can. You're coming out of that arena." His eyes ravenously studied my face, from my lips they jumped to my eyes, his hands stroked my cheeks and pushed back my hair.

I watched him, searching his eyes frantically as he seemed to consume me, "What about Thomas?" I asked, my heart was racing, jumping at the sight of him taking me in like he was. Surely, Finnick knew it was either me or his best friend…and I wouldn't blame him if he chose strong, smart, brave Thomas.

Finnick looked absolutely broken. His sea green eyes sought in desperation. "Mags and I, we'll train you both, you'll both…you can both…" He stammered because he didn't even believe that both of us could survive. Thomas maybe, but I, the girl who had never trained, never fought, didn't have much of a chance at winning.

I let my hands wrap around his jaw line. I pulled him down to my level. He became distant and flustered, watching him, carefully I reminded him, "Only one of us can win Finnick," I breathed, letting my forehead press against his.

He grabbed my wrists and pushed into my forehead, sinking down to the crook in my neck. "Annie, you can do this," He told me, grabbing me tighter. He held me, crushing me into his form. I didn't speak. I knew my death was approaching and I knew I had to accept it. Finnick was the only resistance now. "I'll get you out of that arena. I have to." He told me, wrapping his hands around my face again. There was some reassurance to what Finnick said, but I was hopeless.

I stood silently in his arms until a peacekeeper took him away. I felt empty when he was gone.

My father walked through the door next. His dark hair was graying, and he seemed older in this moment than I had ever seen him. "Your mother's worried," He told me quietly, walking over to hug me. "I told her you'll be ok, you are a Cresta after all." Papa chuckled hollowly. There wasn't much he could say and there wasn't much that I could have said, he was a man of few words and I was a girl with few hopes. "Don't give up in there Annie." He told me, after giving me some last-minute advice on netting.

"I won't Papa," I told him hugging him tightly.

"I know you won't. Make us proud," He said, with tears filling his eyes. I would miss my father. I would miss his patience, his ambition, and his encouragement. "I love you." He told me, holding my face in his hands and kissing me on the forehead.

I hugged him once more, "I love you too Papa." When they escorted him out, I had to say goodbye to the last person that meant anything to me in the District.

My mother ran into the room, her dark hair flowing behind her, like mine. "Oh my Annie!" She cried, hugging me. She held me tightly, weeping into my shoulder.

"Mama…" I said, patting her shoulder and letting my cheek rest there when she couldn't be consoled.

My mother sobbed, "I am so so sorry," She cried, messing with my hair like the rest of my visitors had.

I hugged her again. "It's ok Mama."

"I can't watch you go. They can't take you," She muttered, aggression subtly underlying her crying. Tears stained my shoulder and ran down my arm.

"It's ok Mama," I told her, taking the flower from my hair that she had given me and placing it in hers. "I'll be ok." It was odd, comforting my mother, but I knew this had been her worst nightmare. It had pained her enough to watch her friends step into the arena only to never come back, and I knew it destroyed her to watch me go next.

My mother watched me, holding my face and mussing my hair, her dark eyes darting around to take in my face, just as Finnick had. "Annie…" She whimpered, her dark hair had been pulled up in a bun. Now it was falling in her face from her worry spells.

I cupped her face in my hand like she had mine, "Mama, take care of Papa. I'll be free soon." I smiled mournfully knowing she would understand.

She cried again, "Oh, my sweet girl…" She sobbed, her body trembling as she held me tighter to her. She held me like you would hold a child to protect it against the harsh winds or from cold, "You'll be free." She said, rocking me back and forth and humming the sad song about the lovers at sea to me.

I gripped at her, never wanting to let her go. "I'll be free," I repeated, finally letting sadness overwhelm me. I began to weep in my mother's arms and we sang our last stanza of our heartbreaking symphony. "I love you Mama." I whispered in her ear.

My mother broke away from me, pushed back my falling hair and kissing me on the forehead, "I'll love you forever my darling." And in that moment we both knew, it was the last moment I would ever see her again. I wasn't coming home from that arena. My mother's song echoed in my head and they ripped me from her, from my District, and from my life.


	13. My Shadow

**My Shadow: **Keane.

* * *

><p>The train ride, although different and surreal, was cold and haunting. Dinner was exquisite but I didn't feel like eating. The servants on the train made me uneasy and the whole atmosphere of crammed space and constant moving made me a little nauseous. Mags spent most of the time teaching us typical Hunger Game itineraries once we reached the Capitol, she and our official Ursula, a tall woman with sleek teal hair that curled in one perfect coil at the tip, taught us most everything they thought we needed to know, such as how to act, how to dine, how to present ourselves. Thomas seemed intrigued but otherwise didn't speak much other than to ask questions about training. I kept quiet, glancing over at Finnick. We hadn't spoken to each other since our emotional departure from earlier. When night approached, I wearily walked towards my compartment on the train. Once stripping from the outfit I had dawned for reaping, I pulled on silk pajamas the train attendants set aside and slipped into the sheets of my bed that had been pulled back for me. As I was slowly dozing off, a quiet knock at my door woke me. I opened the door to reveal a startled looking Finnick.<p>

"Finn, are you ok?" I asked quietly. He held a flashlight that shone only a little ray of light on his face. His angular jaw was clenched in a nervous manner.

"Yeah," He said in a strained whisper. He cleared his throat and pushed his hair back. "Yeah I'm fine. Are you ok?" He asked letting his eyebrows raise and then furrow a little. His free hand fidgeted a little, pulling at the hem of his shirt as if looking for something to do.

"I guess," I said quietly. I didn't know if anyone else on the train could hear us, or if they'd condone a secret trainer/trainee rendezvous in the middle of the night.

He stood in the doorway, with what I knew was an attempt at the suave Finnick I used to know. He leaned nonchalantly against the frame and then shifted his weight in a sudden sense of discomfort. "I just wanted to make sure you were… fine?" He said, offering me a weak smile. "It's been kind of a long day for all of us, I guess."

I opened the door all the way, pushing my own long hair back. "Um, yeah. I suppose," I replied softly. Just a few hours ago I was back home in District Four and Finnick was miles away from me. Now, I was on my way to the Capitol to fight for my life and most likely die fighting for nothing. I was assigned to a path where they fight and lose, but not just important things like necessities and loved ones, but life itself. Fear leapt inside me like a wild fire, licking up the walls of my chest and scorching my heart. "Finnick?" I asked quietly as he began to walk away.

He stopped turning back towards me, "Yes Annie?" His curious tone took me back to the night before he left for his own Hunger Games.

"I'm nervous," I whispered.

He watched me with a sympathetic gaze, "Me too Annie, me too." He said dejectedly. It scared me, the way he looked at me. It was as if I would die at any second. He watched me and then came back to the threshold of the door.

I reached for his hand and let my fingers curl around his. Finnick's hands were calloused and rough, but I adored them. I pulled him closer to me, letting his warmth comfort me. The night was cold and I had missed his calming touch. "Will you stay here?"

Finnick smiled a genuine smile…something I hadn't enjoyed in a long time. "I was hoping you'd ask," He walked with me in the little compartment and shut the door behind him.

I pulled him in and hugged him. He held me tighter and I noticed a new smell to his original scent, it wasn't just the crisp ocean or the rich cologne anymore…but a sweet, soft lingering aroma.

"What is that?" I asked, sniffing his collar, with a quiet laugh.

Finnick looked confused and frowned, but then seemed to regain his memory, "Sugar cubes…I get them every time I go to the Capitol. Here, try one," He offered, taking one from his pocket and holding it out to me. I shook my head burying my face in his chest.

"I've had enough new today," I sighed.

He laughed a hollow but still charming laugh, pulling me into him. "Come here." We took to the bed, settling. He smiled as I started to settle in the space between his left arm and his chest, the space forever reserved for me. Although he _seemed_ happy, his thoughts seemed to be unsettled. He shifted as if he were on edge.

I looked at him, uncomfortable that he was still in his dress clothes, showing his mentor status, "It's ok that we're doing this?" The situation made me a little uneasy. Finnick noticed so he sat up and began to take off his collared shirt and vest.

He sank back down beside me and invited me back into my original nook. "I'm sure we'd find Mags and Thomas cuddled up in the next compartment." He chuckled. I missed his jokes. I rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and drawing little invisible designs on his white t-shirt.

"I'm sorry Finnick," I said quietly.

Finnick laughed again, "Why? He's always liked older women."

I smiled, giggling too. I ached for this side of Finnick. I hadn't heard him genuinely joke in what seemed like years. "Ha, no not for Thomas," I said giggling, but I grew serious quickly, "For leaving you."

He grew quiet too. "I don't want to talk about that tonight," He told me, running his fingers through my hair. "It'll all make sense when we get _there._"


	14. Nothing is Written

**Nothing is Written: **Mumford and Sons.

* * *

><p>Waking up in Finnick's arms would have been ideal, but he left some time in the night. All that was left of him was the smell of sugar cubes and the Capitol cologne. I stayed in bed, holding the sheets tightly to me until a knock at the door startled me. "Time to get up, there's a lot to run through today!" Ursula barked. I got up and showered, then dressed in a blue cotton dress I found in the dresser drawers. When I reached the table, I ate more today since I had turned down my chance the night before. Finnick smiled at me when breakfast was finished. I smiled back, wishing I could have held him before we reached the Capitol. But I never did get another chance to be with him before then. Ursula held my time, trying to teach me manners of the Capitol. There wasn't much to work on, my mother knew all about etiquette. She read about it when she was younger and her mother before her made sure that she knew how to act like a lady. There was a myth that my family came from important people before the Dark Days that is. But our family history was destroyed, so we would never really know. I sat up like Ursula told me to. I crossed my ankles, smiled, waved accordingly. By the time Ursula had finished prattling on about our schedule and how we were barbaric comparatively, we arrived in the Capitol.<p>

"How was Ursula?" Finnick asked, hopping down from the train. He offered his hand, helping me from the step.

"Like a shark," I muttered. Thomas and Mags walked in front of us, discussing the differences between the Capitol and District Four…there were many.

"Are you a terrible savage?" Finn asked with a smirk, elbowing me.

I grinned. "I am. An awful barbarian, you know?" I told him, raising an eyebrow, sure he heard the same spiel five years ago.

Finnick laughed, "Oh I do know. I was one once…" He said, pushing back his bronze colored hair. "Staying in your room last night would have kept me one," He whispered in my ear, kind of dancing around me, as he would have when we were younger. This was the Capitol's Finnick, a young, joyous boy who was suave, cool, and collected in everything he did, even talking to his trainee.

"Hmm?" I asked, lips pressed together firmly.

Finnick smiled a mischievous grin, one I knew all too well, "Shh," He hissed playfully, putting his finger to his lips and looking back to see Ursula stomping in tall platform shoes behind us. I giggled. "Are you ready to be made into a Capitol member?" He whispered jokingly as we entered the Training Center.

I frowned as my insecurities began to surface. The people of the Capitol were a strange bunch, odd looking, but beautiful. The women were beautiful and shapely, and more importantly, enough to keep Finnick's attention every week. "You mean, be made beautiful?" I said quietly.

Finnick didn't have his normal smirk etched on his face. Instead, he frowned with me, taking my chin in his hand, "No, if they were striving to make you beautiful, they'd have nothing to do." His smile was sweet and made me dread having to leave him.

But in a rush, he was gone and I was surrounded my people with silly colors in their hair, ridiculous tattoos covering their oddly colored skin, and clothes…oh the clothes, too extravagant or ostentatious. A prep team ushered me into a cold room with bright lights surrounding. They took away all unwanted hair, waxing every inch of my body. They plucked at my face, splashing perfumes and color all over my cheeks. They took thick brushes spreading make-up around my skin. My stylist, Cora didn't talk much. He was an older pale man, tall in a sleek navy blue suit. His hair was slicked back with a bluish tint. He had a stern glare and judgmental gaze. His looks and appearances made me all the more uncomfortable, especially when they stripped me down to nothing. He walked around me smirking at my scrawny physique. "This is silly…a waste of my talent," He scoffed. "Come," He waved pushing me down the halls to where I was to get dressed. In front of me stood a tall mannequin with a long heavy fabric hanging down its sides. In a matter of seconds, the dress was pulled from the mannequin and stitched around my body. I was strapped into this golden, orange gown with brilliant coral red lining at the top of the heart shaped bodice. The top plunged deep providing a provocative glance the Capitol so much loved to promote. Cora stuffed my bodice with padding, and then proceeded to douse my shoulders, chest, and legs in glitter. The inside of the dress, where the split occurred, was a powdery white color, accentuating the soft glowing tan District Four had provided. The split revealed enough, like the top. The only thing that gave me some security was the large burgundy net draped over my shoulders that fell down my back. Cora gave me tall aqua blue heels to stand in. "You don't have to walk tonight," He said with a small unkind smirk, "just stand there and look pretty." He walked over to a mirror and pushed it towards me. I was kind of beautiful.

My face glowed in a mysterious way, the dress hugged every curve I didn't have, and my long dark hair was twisted in such an intricate way, I looked nothing like myself. "We've done it," Cora announced to my prep team. "She's a sea goddess trapped in our nets!" They cheered and clapped. They praised him, and then me. They giggled amused by his puns, as if it were some new idea…as if the irony of it all weren't evident.

They helped me stumble to where Thomas, Mags, and Finnick stood. The room was quiet, even Thomas' stylists. "You look gorgeous," Thomas muttered with a thin smile. Thomas looked handsome himself. He had no net draped over him, but he did have similar colors in his suit. There were shells that lined his lapel, one accent I lacked. We walked to our decorated chariot, my knees were shaking as my ankles weren't strong enough to support me in the tall aqua colored shoes. Thomas took one side of me and Finnick held the other side. "Ok Annie, just smile and look beautiful." But I couldn't. I couldn't smile. I was terrified. I plastered a fake smile on my lips and looked out into the imminent crowd… but it wasn't enough. Finnick shook his head in disapproval. "Annie, you can do this. If I can do this, you can." He muttered something to Thomas but I didn't notice. Instead, I did my best to muster up the most dazzling smile I could. But just as I thought the ceremony was about to start, Finnick pulled me from the chariot in an area where he found private enough.

"Finnick…I've got to go!" I shouted, stumbling into him and anxious to get back there in time before the Capitol's anthem began to play.

He grabbed me by the wrist and locked his hand behind my ear. Finnick pulled me in close, letting one hand rest on the small of my back, gripping to the netting. He watched my face closely and then my eyes, his nose grazed mine and I stared into his emerald eyes, "You're beautiful…show them that." Finnick's lips touched mine swiftly and then there was a forceful strength behind his movements. His kiss was fulfilling but the minute he broke away from me, I ached for him. "Wow them," He told me, pushing me back towards the chariots.

Thomas helped me back on the small platform and we were paraded about the Capitol. Thomas and I grinned, waving and wooing the crowd. My smile was unfailing. I would never be rid of it. Finnick was wonderful. He was the something I had been missing for awhile. He was someone I couldn't hate again. But I did hate his timing.


	15. Helena

Hey everyone! So, I want to thank you guys for the feedback and for sticking with me thus far. I looked at my outline and there's still a ways to go, so if you're in...I'm in :) BUT anyways, as you know, this all started because I wanted to improve my writing and _this is probably one of the trickiest character development I've ever worked on_, so **PLEASE** feel free to comment, post critiques, etc. because without your reviews I can't improve. You guys are awesome! Thanks so much and I really hope you enjoy :) Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Helena: <strong>Nickel Creek.

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><p>"What was that?" I asked him in the elevator back to the fourth floor.<p>

Finnick shrugged, "What?" He asked leaning against the panels of the wall.

I felt silly for bringing it up. My lips were still tingling. "That…today?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Oh…that," He said uneasily. He scratched the back of his head, ruffling his pretty auburn hair, "Motivation," He said with another shrug.

I felt a fire spark in me. "That's all?" I asked, insulted by his nonchalant smirks.

The arrogant Finnick of the Capitol nodded and the elevator doors opened, "That was all." He held his hand out to keep the doors open saying, "Don't be silly Annie." He didn't once make eye contact with me. I was supposed to be the foolish little girl that he could laugh about with all of his Capitol friends. He was probably planning on mocking me with Thomas later. The stupid tribute that was pathetic enough to pursue her mentor. I was furious. We stood outside of the little Capitol apartment, a clenched jaw and me with balled up fists.

"So what do you want from me, Finnick?" I growled.

He looked at me in shock. His emerald green eyes seemed a little distant but then reconnected with mine, "Annie, I just want you to survive." His quiet voice sounded desperate. "You're my friend," He said, placing his hand around my jaw.

"Your friend?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Finnick was speechless. He watched me before he spoke, but the best he came up with was, "Well…" I was irate. I shook my head, pushing his hand away from me. I shook my head, shaking in anger. "Every time, I fall for it every time." I pushed past him and approached the door. He stopped me before I entered the apartment.

"Annie, you know I think you're wonderful," He said, letting the last wave of ice wash over me from the echoes of the hallway.

"Ok, Finnick." I breathed.

Ursula, Mags, and Thomas were waiting on us, ready to watch the playback of the opening ceremony. Ursula watched the two of us with a cold glare. Thomas was more curious than anything else, lifting an eyebrow at our entrance. Mags was the only one who didn't question it. The sweet old lady smiled at me and wrapped a thin blanket around me. Thomas and I looked wonderful, but I couldn't subdue the thoughts running through my mind. When the ceremonies were over, I waited for everyone to leave. I sat on the couch, hopelessly waiting for him to speak to me, but he was quiet. We were the only two left. I watched him push his hair back. He didn't say a word. He leaned forward and glanced over at me. He leaned back. He didn't say a word. I hated Capitol Finnick. I got up angrily, "You know, you should have played along seeing as I'm going to die anyways," I growled, flinging the blanket on the couch and storming off to my wing where I was to stay.

"Annie…" Finnick followed me.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway. "What Finn?" I snapped. I walked away from him towards my room, "We both know I'm not going to survive this," I said while closing the door.

Finnick burst through, pushing me out of the way. "Stop it!" He shouted, but just quiet enough so my contender and caretakers wouldn't hear him. "Just stop it!" He slammed the door behind him, leaning against it and putting his hands to the temple of his forehead. "Annie Cresta…I swear you are the most frustrating person I've ever met." He said, flinging his fists back against the door.

I approached him, "I'm frustrating? What about you?" I threw an angry, accusatory glare towards him and crossed my arms.

He stood up, walking closer to me. "What about me?"

I closed the space. My chest against his, "What about that kiss today? Or that ring you gave me?" I asked through gritted teeth as that slender piece of gold nested coldly on my finger. "Or last night? Or all those other nights?" I barked, pushing him. I wanted to scream as I thought of his playful jokes, sharing the same bed with him, him hugging me through the night. That kiss. That's what set me off. Our lips touch for the first time and it's for a quick fix smile.

Finnick looked just as desperate and enraged as I felt. He stumbled and then threw his hands in the air, violently. "Annie you don't want me! I swear, you don't want me!" He shouted with an almost pleading tone.

I shook my head, "No, it seems you're the one who doesn't want me…again. Again? You must love controlling me like this." My voice was weak and like the past few months, my feelings for Finnick and the rest of my life fell into the same series of dejection, desperation, and disappointment. I stripped from the net around my shoulders and threw it to the corner of the room, dragging my sore and weary body to my new bed. It was cold like that of a prison cell.

"Annie…" He sighed, approaching me.

I shrank from him, sitting on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands. "Leave me alone Finn," I whispered. Tears were imminent and I felt my body ready to break from exhaustion and distress.

But Finnick didn't leave. Instead, he sat down beside me. Finnick reached around me and grabbed my hands, "No. I'm not losing you like this," He said, turning my hand in his, inspecting the little ring on my right hand.

I snatched my fingers away from him, pushing back pieces of hair that had fallen from Cora's intricate braided design. "Why are you fighting so hard for me, Finn?" I asked curtly.

Finnick sank down, off the bed and to his knees. He grabbed both of my hands and rested his elbows on my thighs. He didn't speak for awhile, instead, he turned my hands over and over in his like he had and then he looked up at me with sad emerald eyes and answered, "Because one of us has to." He kissed my fingertips and my heart broke as anger dissipated. Tears splashed down to my thighs. I didn't realize they were mine until he reached up and pushed them away with his hands, like he did every time. I hated every touch from him. I hated every glance, every sweet smile, every reassuring action because it only made me want him more. It only made me want him closer. It reminded me that he didn't want me. He was never going to want me, and he knew that my emotions were caught on him. He knew I wanted him and didn't want me back. But none of that, not the disappointment, not the rejection, nothing stopped my next desperate plea. Was he reveling in this?

"Kiss me." I whispered the dare. And he did. Finnick didn't hesitate. He pulled himself up beside me, searching my face, watching me. His movements were cautious, planned, as if I had set a trap for him. He studied me in seconds and then the kiss…It wasn't passionate. It wasn't romantic. It was just a kiss. Different than the one at the ceremony. His lips were soft; there was a lingering sadness between us. It was wrong, but only because we both knew, even if he did keep me alive, it would never last. I was alone without him, and he would never miss me. And I would be fine with that.


	16. White Blank Page

**White Blank Page: **Taylor Swift Version.

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><p>The next morning I woke up in my Capitol bed with Ursula banging on the door. It was almost like everything with Finnick from the night before had been a dream, except for his blushing at breakfast every time I looked his way. His bronze colored hair fell in his eyes, it was getting shaggy and he needed a shave. He didn't seemed too concerned though. He seemed worried. "Alright, so how are we going to do this?" He asked gruffly to Mags. She looked to us and sat down in front of both Thomas and me. Mags was a sweet, older woman. She looked so frail, but in all actuality she was stronger than Finnick, Thomas, and me combined. She knew how to survive and that's how she won, through her strength, endurance and want to survive.<p>

"Ok, you two, here are your options: you can train together or separately…"

"Separately," Thomas insisted before Mags could finish. Finnick looked taken aback and I felt a new worry spark in me. But Thomas saw and understood our reactions, "I would just prefer it," He added.

"Alright, Miss Cresta, do you have a preference on which mentor you'd like to train with?" Mags asked, hands folded as we sat at the round table of our quarters.

I felt meek and pathetic next to Thomas. I remembered him when he and Finnick used to taunt me. I remember the intensity in his eyes when they competed...when he wanted to win. Training would be no different. My nerves rattled at the thought of Thomas murdering me, "No. I don't," I said quietly, shaking my head.

"Mr. Reed?" She asked with such patience that I didn't believe she could ever hurt anyone.

"You," Thomas said firmly. He didn't hesitate with his demands. He was straightforward and didn't waiver. He didn't even so much as glance at me.

Mags frowned, "Not Finnick here? Weren't you two the best of friends?" She asked, obviously remembering the days when Finnick and Thomas caused mischief in the main square or when Finn was a "young" victor and in need of friends.

Thomas frowned. His lips folded in thinly, "Odair has his own agenda here in the Capitol, and there are no friends in that arena," His voice was harsh and cold.

The room grew quiet and Finnick spoke up and slammed his hand down, "Shut up!" He growled. The table shook at the force of Finnick's fist. He was ready to fight, and Thomas didn't seem to flinch or even oppose the idea of a brawl.

But I came to Thomas' defense before I could stop myself, "He's right," I squeaked. I watched my hands, knowing Finnick's gaze was on me.

Mags cleared her throat, "Well, that's enough of this, Finnick you will train Annie…we can swap off later in the week if you'd like or I can just give you some pointers later if need be," She directed to me, "but we are wasting very valuable time here arguing." She said, motioning to Thomas. They left Finnick and me alone, Thomas storming out angrily and Mags following him with her same steady tread.

The apartment was quiet. Finnick seemed bent on not speaking first. "So, you don't talk to Thomas anymore?" I asked softly.

Finnick popped a sugar cube in his mouth and leaned back in his chair, "That's not really any of your business," He said just as cold as Thomas had been earlier.

Anger surged through me, "Really? Now's the time you want to keep secrets?" I snapped, reminded of my impending doom, especially now that Thomas was bent on destroying me.

Finnick chuckled, still hollow with a hint of anger, standing up and dusting himself off, "It's as good a time as any."

I scoffed, "I bet these 'secrets' are just little ditties you're too embarrassed to talk about," I muttered as he walked me to the elevator. I was getting under his skin and he was already irritated with me. But in true Cresta fashion, I blurted out every thought, unable to keep them under wraps. "What? Did Thomas beat you in a game? Are you scared he'll steal the spotlight from District Four's heartthrob, Finnick Odair?"

"You're so arrogant," He growled as we took our descent to the training room.

I laughed again, haughtily, "You're one to talk, now aren't you?" Anger was surging through me, boiling inside me. We stood as equals. Each one taking a side of the elevator. Both standing our ground.

Finnick watched me, appalled, ears turning a shade of red. In an instant he looked down at the elevator buttons, refusing me any eye contact. "I'm not playing games with you anymore Cresta." Finnick became truly angry with me. The last time he was this mad at me, our friendship ended. This would end everything…and just in time too.

I felt a pang of sadness hit my chest, mixing with a spurt of anger. I watched him, looming. His tall, lean, muscular form was slumped in a brooding stance. His strong jaw and handsome angled features were clenching and tense, but then relaxed in a hauntingly sad way. He was just looming on the opposite side of the metal box, only a few feet away from me. I wanted him angry. "Well, good Odair. Because the last thing I want, are more games," I snapped. I felt my throat threaten to close and decided it was time to move on. "Why aren't you speaking with Thomas?"

Finnick didn't fight me anymore. The elevator beeped as it passed the several floors, but we were still traveling to the depths of the training center. "It's easier that way." He turned to face the numbers lighting up, instead of me.

I felt a new emotion pulse through me as I saw Finnick's harsh glare at the mention of Thomas' name. "To say goodbye?" I asked in disgust. "You're such a coward." The elevator stopped and I thought Finnick's heart did too.

He watched me with a new fury, one that frightened me more than the last wave that overcame him or the ones that threatened our existence when we were on the beaches of District Four. Finnick turned around quickly. "Me? A coward?" He bellowed. "I'm Finnick Odair!" My bones shook at the sound of his temper.

"I know who you are," I told him in an even voice. Anger was certainly rising, along with my disgust towards him. "Don't shout at me." I pushed past him, storming out of the elevator.

Finn followed, his fists beat against the metal doors as he caught them before they closed. "Do you want to win these games or not, Annie?" He asked fiercely. "Just let me know. I need to make sure I'm not wasting my breath here." He stood between the doors of the elevator, waiting.

"Well you are," I said, walking dejectedly towards the training room. But I stopped and turned to face him, "I would much rather see Thomas Reed come out a victor than me."

Finnick marched past the elevator doors to me. "What are you talking about?" He snapped, standing further from me than I would have liked.

But I didn't think, I just let words pour from me. "He would be a wonderful victor for the Capitol." I explained irrationally. "Handsome. Young. Charismatic. Far better than me," I said, almost hysteric. I didn't even look to Finnick for reassurance. I knew he agreed. "I'm just here by sheer dumb luck. Sheer, dumb, unfortunate luck," I sighed. "What would you lose if I didn't come out of that arena? No one would blame you for my death." I forced myself to make eye contact with him. His green eyes held this inexplicable ferocity, but his jaw, lips, muscles had all relaxed in a painfully sad way.

"I would. I would blame me," He said in a small voice.

"That's stupid." I laughed at him. "You can't fight odds."

That ferocity spread, "I don't need odds Annie! You know what I would lose if you didn't come out of that arena?" He asked, grabbing my shoulders. His eyes bore into me, reminding me of the Finnick in Four. "You. I fought odds to get back to you and I don't know when you decided you were going to die in the Games, but you _will_ come back. You _will_ walk out of that arena." He said sternly. The hall was quiet and I all I could hear was my heart beating. "And Thomas knows that." He admitted. Finnick's despair broke my heart. "He hates me because I've sacrificed him. My best friend… and he's good as dead for some ungrateful little girl." His voice caught in his throat, but he ignored it.

"So what am I?" I asked quietly. Finnick's admittance of giving up his best childhood friend, frightened me. Our relationship was rocky and stressed at most times…He could easily bet my death. Pretend to prepare me and then watch me die, winning whatever he put at stake, my imagination was disturbing.

Finnick watched me and the wild look that had been burning in his eyes had subsided. The sadness for Thomas somehow became misplaced. "Impossible, and someone who needs training." Finnick marched to the doors of the training center, opened the door and waited for me to walk through. "You are the only tribute from Four who can't put up a decent fight and it doesn't matter if you're from the same district…allies don't exist for long in that arena."

He grabbed me and handed me a spear. He taught me to throw spears, knives, nets… He taught me how to effectively catch and kill. "Fight Annie!" He shouted, and I tried. I pushed him, struck him, tried to take him down, but I was weak against him.

Frustration was an old battle I couldn't win. "I'm trying!"

He fought off my advances. I threw a punch at him. He blocked me. I tried to escape him but he caught me. "Fight!" He growled, holding me. "They won't keep you alive this long." He said as I struggled against his strength.

"Get away from me Finnick!" I shrieked as I tried to push him off me. He only held me tighter.

"Fight back!" He shouted.

Adrenaline raced through me. I tried to fight him and I couldn't. I couldn't fight off his strength. I was trapped. I grabbed a stick that we combated with and I stabbed him.

The air was knocked out of him. He instantly released me and fell to his knees. A bruise was starting to form around where I hit him. "Good. Maybe now you'll win." He forced.

But it was silly…silly to think that that was all I needed to win. "I'm not ready for this arena," I muttered, sinking down to the mat with him. "My training scores are bound to be poor." I lied down beside him, hand on my abdomen and legs bent.

"They won't be," He said once he could sit up. "Wow them." He said in true Finnick fashion, smiling at me for the first time in awhile.

I laughed with a smirk, "How? There isn't exactly a tank to swim in." I sighed a heavy breath and let my hands cover my eyes.

"Improvise." Finnick suggested. "Set up nets, traps, anything…you're a master at catching things!" He became enthusiastic, hoping I would catch on. And although I tried to be, I preferred being a better fighter. So we continued training. I fought him off, but I still was no match to him. I threw spears and knives, nets and punches. I trained to survive, knowing what to eat, how to camouflage, how to live. I tied knots around Finnick…and after a few more intense sessions they threw me to the wolves called gamemakers.

I walked in the training room with the rest of the tributes. I was no fighter. I didn't throw spears or knives like a lot of the other tributes were notorious for. But after a few days of combating and planning and testing new survival skills, when the time came...the true test was to impress the gamemakers. I trembled as my nerves overcame me. I grabbed rope, not making eye contact with the gamemakers, and I tied knots. Within minutes, I had set a snare good enough to trap a grown man with nothing more than a net and a rebounding spear. The game makers dismissed me without a word.


	17. Kiss Me

**Kiss Me:** The Fray Version.

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><p>"Breathe…you can do this." Finnick's firm grip latched to my shoulders. He was careful not to disrupt the fall of my gown. Cora worked meticulously on this one. It was a strapless gown, and a dipping neckline. The top of it was the same color as my skin and rest of it was a flowing skirt that grazed the floor. The gems that covered the skirt started at the waist in a deep blue color and then became a lighter blue down the skirt. The crystals at the bottom of the gown were white, and just hit my feet. Cora said I was supposed to represent a wave in the ocean. It really was a beautiful creation. Over my shoulders, he draped another net, but this one was gold and shorter than the last, with bigger cutouts. I was still the girl trapped to him. But he did seem to take a liking to me as time went on.<p>

"I don't know Finn," I said quietly, keeping an eye out for other tributes or mentors that might invade our private moment. Finnick was cautious about people and how they perceived our relationship.

He grew exceptionally angry when one of the other mentors, Johanna Mason, asked me if I thought sleeping with him would save me, or when other tributes accused me of being less than reputable.

"Stop it," Finnick reprimanded me now turning me to face him. "Your eight in training roped in sponsors, the interview is the last shot." He said with a focused determination, "So…Just remember what I told you," He said with a small hopeful smile.

I tried to list them off in my head. _Be funny. Be charming. Be open. Be innocent. _ "Ok," I said in a small voice.

But Finnick kept his small smile, pushing back loose strands of my hair. "You're going to win them over," He told me quietly, "Just remember…charm them like you charm District Four."

I scoffed with a small laugh, "I don't charm District Four…you do."

Finnick laughed with me, but it was pity, shaking his head at me, "No, it's not to the extent that you have. Trust me," He wrapped me in his arms, "Tell them your secrets, make them love you, be vulnerable, just like I told you." Finnick said, holding his arms around my shoulder for a few seconds longer. When we heard the footsteps of Mags and Thomas approaching, he let me go. They lined us up. Each tribute was dressed in something more glamorous than the opening ceremony had been. Thomas looked very nice, still complimenting me in his wardrobe and ignoring me in his actions. I waited nervously, but patiently as they were all interviewed before me. But soon, it was my turn.

"Annie Cresta from District Four," Caesar Flickerman called out. A few Capitol servants escorted me to the stage. Caesar seemed genuinely excited to speak with me. "Hello, hello Annie, my you look stunning! Tell us Annie, how have you been?" He asked, shaking my hand and reaching out to hug me. After a quick embrace, he helped me in my chair across from him.

"Thank you." I smiled, as elegantly as I could, as Finnick taught me, "I'm fine Caesar, and you?" I asked politely.

Caesar clapped his hands together. "Marvelous! But enough of me my dear, come, come, tell us what are you thinking? How's your stay been in the Capitol? What can we look forward to in that arena?" He asked in his true host fashion. He was a natural at these things, and everything I said felt forced and rigid.

I giggled to mask my fear. The questions were extensive; they were dying to know me. "My, there are a lot of people watching, aren't there?" I said, trying to be as cute and enchanting as possible.

Caesar reached across to me, clasping his hands on mine, "Oh! Do you get stage-fright?" He asked, watching me with sympathy and then looking to the audience, smiling.

I giggled again, watching the audience with a wary eye, "It seems too soon to tell, doesn't it?" The Capitol reacted with giggling and applauding, encouraging me, but not enough to keep me comfortable.

But even with my discomfited responses, Caesar moved on flawlessly, "So, Annie, tell me, what were you thinking after reaping?" He asked, folding his hands across his lap.

I watched the audience and then him, the camera, and then to the crowd…to Finnick, "Well, I was honored," I lied. He smiled slightly and then returned to a face of stone. "But I knew I would miss my family terribly. And the ocean…and…" I said, letting my voice trail. I watched the glittering floor of the stage and then met Caesar's curious eyes.

"And?" He asked anxiously with a never fading smile.

I giggled, waving my hand, "Oh, it's silly," I said with an airy voice. Caesar still searched with a mischievous smile. I became vulnerable like Finnick trained me, "But I miss someone else…" I said quietly.

The entire audience whined in disappointment, gasped with shock, and some 'ooh-ed' with intrigue. "Oh do tell darling."

I bit my lip, announcing my secrets like he had wanted me to. I became nervous. I'd have to confess it, aloud. I'd become innocent, giving away my biggest secret to an audience of strangers, so what? So they'd feel sorry for me? Desire me? "I fell in love with him back home," I admitted, never saying his name. "I've never told anyone that," I said quietly, with a small nervous laugh. I shook my head, continuing with my new persona, "Not even him. Honestly, I don't think he'd ever love me back." I said, leaning on the arm of my chair, letting my chin rest elegantly on my fist.

Caesar roared in defense, shaking his head and watching me in sympathy, "Nonsense! You're beautiful, he'd be a fool not to! Am I right?" He asked the audience. They roared with him in agreement. My heart swelled with pride.

The audience cheered for me. They stood for me, applauded me, it was amazing the affection they had for their new piece game piece.

Once they quieted down he asked, "If you won, would you tell him?"

I smiled and finally answered, "I'm winning for him." I didn't look to Finnick. I didn't look anywhere but at the floor and then back to Caesar. He stood up to hug me.

"Admirable and beautiful!" He exclaimed. "Well, good luck Annie Cresta!" He said, presenting me one last time to a cheering crowd. The threw their flowers to me and I ran backstage to wipe away all emotions before Finnick or any tribute caught up with me.

It wasn't long before Finnick ran up to me, "Annie, you did it! They loved you! They're bowing at your feet!" He said, embracing me and spinning me in circles. "You've…you've done it," He said again, a little winded but beaming.

I hugged Finnick tightly around the neck, "Thank you Finn." In the midst of smiling and laughing, congrats and nerves, he lifted my chin and watched me with a sad smile.

"They'd be fools not to love you," He said quietly, fingers pining for something to feel. He pushed back my hair and held my face in his strong hands. His green eyes searched mine, swimming in an ignited passion, "I'd be a fool not to love you," Finnick whispered, his thumb ran across my lower lip as he stared into my eyes hungrily. His lips crashed into mine, kissing me with a new passion. Although there was a fire roaring inside us, there was a lingering sadness that I knew would never leave.

The games were in a few short hours and he would be torn away from me. In a few short hours, I would be helpless and dead. "Finnick," I sighed, leaning into his chest. We went back to our quarters, gathering around the television as the interviews played back. Thomas didn't seem pleased, but the rest of our team 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at my appearance. "You look beautiful! Stunning! Gorgeous!" They raved. But soon, time came to sleep. I grew nervous as everyone began to leave the room. Typically, that would have left me and Finnick alone, but Thomas stayed behind. "Are you scared?" He asked me.

His tone worried me. I didn't know whether to answer honestly or lie. But he stopped me before I had a chance to answer. "You should be. You and I don't have much of a chance now do we?" He growled with a menacing smile still plastered to his handsome face.

Tension spread across the room, stunning me. "Don't talk to her like that!" Finnick snarled. Thomas rolled his eyes and laughed fiercely.

He stood up, still eyeing Finnick coldly. "See you in the arena Cresta," Thomas waved at me with a smirk lingering on his lips. Anger filled his eyes and controlled his movements. He stormed out of the room leaving Finnick with me, and me with my swarming thoughts.

Finn, still standing, watching to make sure Thomas was gone, spoke first. "Don't worry about him." He gave me comfort in that but the anger in his voice made me uneasy.

I didn't speak, just cowered silently in my chair. Finnick pulled me up and walked me to my room. "But I am scared Finn," I finally said, as we reached the door. I leaned against it, facing him and letting my hands hit the doorknob.

Finnick, only inches away touched my face and that set me off. I grabbed his hand, holding it in place and my free hand wrapped around his arm as he moved closer to me, hugging me tightly. "Do you want me to stay?" He asked me quietly.

I smiled weakly, "I was hoping you'd ask."

I opened the door and he shut it behind us. I crossed to the bathroom, letting down my hair. He turned back the sheets, and I stepped out of my gown into some cotton pajamas that sat by the sink, left out for me by an Avox. Finnick stripped out of his fancy Capitol suit and down to his boxers. He didn't look at me. There was something painful about the way he moved. He seemed nervous and frustrated. I attributed that to the Games tomorrow. The thought speared at me, creating a harsh pain in my chest. I began crying again. It was silly. Stupid even. Crying at the drop of a hat… but fear overwhelmed me. I tried to wipe away my tears, washing my face and staring at the mirror, cleaning up before he noticed, but he did notice. He took my hand and gently pulled me across the room.

He let me climb in first and then followed me. The bed was soft and the cool sheets calmed me. Silent tears trailed down my face, so I curled into a little ball on the far side of the bed. I faced the window with a dimmed view of the Capitol lights. Drapes colored over the neon shades coming in. Neither of us had moved. We stayed on opposite sides. It was lonely but I hated him seeing me so weak. But I was weak. And I needed him.

I crawled across the sheets and settled beside him. A smile crossed his face and he wrapped his arms around me. It was better with him than without. The aching in my chest slowly subsided. Lying there with him was the safest I had felt since they called my name at reaping. He was the last bit of security from District Four I had left, him, and his ring, the tiny gold band that stayed on my finger. I placed my hand on his chest and he jumped at the cool metal of the ring. With his free hand, he examined my right hand, kissing the ring and then my forehead. I leaned into his chest listening to his racing heart. This was the most vulnerable side of him…and of me. "Finnick?" I whispered in the eerily quiet dark.

He kept playing with my hand, "Yeah Annie?" His deep voice was so soothing. The way he held my hand in his made me sad that I wouldn't see him after tonight.

I shivered at the thought of my dead body being delivered back to Four. My mother crying, sinking in darkness. My father growing old and frail. My Finnick moving on…alone, drowning in his own fears. "What if I don't come out?"

His answer wasn't as sure or aggressive as it had been, "Annie…I need you to come out." His voice croaked.

"I'm so scared." I couldn't stop saying it, or thinking it, or meaning it.

And Finnick finally broke, "Me too," He admitted quietly.

"Were you this scared when you went in?" I asked him, staring into the darkness.

I looked up at him and he was smiling faintly, "No. Because I knew I was going back to you." Finnick sank down in the sheets and pulled me up to him by the waist. He grabbed my face with a soft touch. He took my hair in his hands and twirled the soft ringlets around his fingers searching my face with those beautiful deep emerald eyes. "Annie, I love you."

I sank down to his sternum, hiding my face in his chest. It was becoming a bad and too familiar habit. I covered my ears. "Stop," I commanded quietly. "Don't say that please."

"I'm sorry if I upset you." Finnick said, wrapping his arms around me again, tighter now.

But I broke free, falling to my side of the bed. I still stayed close to him, adrenaline racing through me. He loved me. The idea made my heart soar. Hearing that small confession was my temporary, personal Heaven, but it was also a taste of Hell. "No…you didn't. I just don't want you to say that. I mean I do…but not now."

He pulled his arm around me and cradled me again, "When would you like me to tell you?"

"When I come out of that arena…that's when." I said looking up at him. He shared the same smile I did. "Tell me everything then."

Finnick shifted again, now on his side and I was on mine. He faced me, our hands interlaced between us. "I should have told you before now," He told me sorrowfully. "But I was scared." His whispered confessions gave me chills, but I wouldn't let go of him.

I pressed my forehead against his, "I'm glad you didn't."

Finnick's smirk was audible, keeping me calm in the dark. "Why?"

I held his hands in mine and then used on hand to reach up and push his hair back, "Because now, I have a reason to come back…" I smiled, reaching up to kiss him on his nose.

And although we both seemed to be calming down, I knew Finnick was still troubled. "So you want to know it all?" He asked cautiously.

My hand ran through his hair and then to his face, and then his neck where the rest of my body gravitated to. "Tell me what you couldn't tell me before…everything…and then tell me you love me." I said sinking down to lie down in the crook of his neck, in the place of comfort reserved for me. "Just no goodbye confessions," I breathed as we finally found peace in the stillness.

"No goodbye confessions," He repeated.

I smiled desolately, knowing within a few hours _this_ would be simply a memory. My last sweet moment with Finnick, gone in a matter of minutes and this was all I had to hold on to…that I would come back to him. "I am going to miss this though, and the ocean, and swimming..."

Finnick let his arm fall over me, keeping a strong hand on my waist. "Well, _when_ you come out of that arena, we can go back to the ocean and we'll be safe." I breathed in his sweet scent remembering my mother's song. "We'll be free." We would be free after this. Maybe free in death, hopefully free in life.

He held me next to him and I still felt miles apart. "Closer," I whispered. My heart broke when he pulled me tighter. It broke at the idea of being away from him. It broke when I thought of the two lovers at sea. He pulled me in, holding me tighter than he ever had. He had loved me more than I could have ever dreamed and this was more than I could have ever imagined. And even after all the kisses of the night, I still felt miles apart. _"Closer."_


	18. Run For Your Life

**Run For Your Life: **The Fray.

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><p>I took a deep breath. It was almost time. I would be thrown in the arena. I promised Finn. I promised I would come back, but with each step, I was less sure of that. I had the last comfort of finally having him there when I woke up. "Today's the day…" He whispered, kissing me on the forehead. My heart sank, but I was as ready as I could have been. He gave me one last hug and I was sent to breakfast and then to Cora. Cora watched with some sympathy but very little. He was excited about the games, like the rest of the Capitol, not thinking of lives lost. "Are you ready?" He asked me.<p>

"I guess I have to be."

"That's the spirit. You'll at least look fabulous," Cora clapped his hands together and went to work. He pulled my hair back, enough to be out of my way and still frame my face. He kept me pretty for the cameras even though I was only minutes away from destroying his work. He put me in a tight, thin blue shirt, tight but flexible forest green pants, comfortable and sturdy boots and a light jacket. My ring was still on my finger. My nerves were rattled. Cora pulled me over to the small, clear, cylinder elevator, saying nothing more to me. The door shut and with a whoosh, I was taken to the arena. My body shook as fear ensnared me.

_Don't move. _I waited. The world was watching. Finnick was watching. 10. 9. The countdown began. 8. 7. 6. The mines would go off if anyone tried to race to the Cornucopia before it was time. 5. 4. So close now. 3. My heart was racing. 2. I studied the determine faces. 1. I ran. I grabbed the first bag I could, that was furthest from the center. In a hurry, I ran from the bloodbath. But someone caught me. A sword was aimed at my throat, by a girl from Seven. In a rush, I let out a weak shout just as someone stopped her with their own blade. Blood splattered across my face as the girl took her last gasp of air, grip loosing from around my arm. I didn't stay around to see my savior. Instead, I ran toward the dense wood that mimicked the grounds outside the cottage back in Four.

I ran until I thought my heart would burst. The grounds were quiet behind me. I stopped, taking in a moment to study my surroundings. The woods were truly dense. There wasn't much in the arena. Not much to hide behind, other than the few trees standing between the Cornucopia and me. There was a dam on the other side and a small pool of water standing around it. It was warm in the arena, as if we were stuck in the marshes. I stripped from my jacket and pushed it in the bag, only to find a small amount of dried food, a small canteen of water and one knife. That was it. The only means of surviving…Although I was safe, the idea of only having a knife to hunt with and to protect me from my predators and surroundings frightened me. I ran again only to find a small cave to hide in. Would that save me? Could I stay hidden for the entire time? It was a stupid thought, but it was a stupid thought that saved me for the first few days. I didn't leave the small cave. I didn't go out, not even for food. I would rather starve than kill. My head was aching, but I rationed my supplies as I had been. It was quiet. There were only a few deaths but that was it. I had expected more. The tributes from Districts One and Two were all still alive. District Five's boy was alive and District Three's girl. The two from District Six and Eight were alive and the boy from Twelve. No one from Seven, Nine, Ten, or Eleven had survived. And Thomas…Thomas was still here. Somewhere.

I thought I was safe in the cave until someone stumbled upon my hideout. I hid in the dark corner of the cave, holding my breath. He carefully tiptoed in the mouth of the cave, weapon ready. I gripped my knife in my hand. One. He was getting closer. Two. I braced myself for impact. Three. He saw me, grabbed my hand and wrestled me to the ground. "I've been looking for you." I waited for him to slit my throat, but he didn't. He took my knife, tossed it across the cave, along with his spear. I was lying on the ground, bewildered. Strands of my long brown hair stuck to my bloodied lips. The mud, blood, and dirt smeared across my face and clothes made me look wild. I was hoping that would scare away my attacker…as if I looked like a threat with a smudge of dirt on my cheek. I watched Thomas watch me. "Get up." He commanded. So I did in fear. "What Cresta? Are you scared?" He laughed with the same harsh smirk from the training center.

I bit my lip in confusion. "What do you want Thomas?" Fear paralyzed me and I crawled to the edge of the cave, edging into jagged rocks.

Thomas smiled wider. "I'm not going to kill you Cresta." His deep brown eyes looked troubled, sad even. "I already saved you once." My mind whirred as I thought of the sword that pierced my attacker days earlier.

His grave sarcasm left me with no condolence. "So who is?" I asked quietly, paranoid this was some sort of trap.

He shrugged. "I don't know, but it won't be me…" He said in the same instance of quiet.

It seemed impossible Thomas hadn't made some move. I was sitting in front of him, vulnerable; he could've struck at any moment. "Don't you want to win?"

Thomas sat beside me, pushing me further into the sharp wall. "Sure. But we both know I won't." He said running his hand through his usually perfect brown hair. Now it was matted and he was covered in dirt and blood like I.

It broke my heart hearing him talk like this. "Come on Thomas…you're brilliant at this," I said weakly, knowing I was at his mercy but strangely only caring about his survival. "Hunting was always an easy sport for you."

Thomas chuckled a little, just like Finn would have. "Sure Annie, but I'm not here to hunt you. You heard what I said back there…there's no chance for us. So, why would I kill you?" He asked, leaning into the rock and closing his eyes.

"To give you a chance," I croaked in the darkness of the cave. The only light that came in emitted from the small opening between plant leaves that hid most of the entrance.

He sighed and I could hear his frustration. "What would I be going back to Ann?"

"You're still loved." I told him in a meek voice. He was, after all the equally boisterous Thomas Reed, the life of the District who had incredible wit and strength.

But he thought otherwise. "But not like the beloved Finnick Odair." I never thought of how it must've felt to have a best friend come out a victor. It never crossed my mind that Thomas would be jealous of Finn. That idea seemed silly, but his next surpassed his last. "…Or even better, his pretty little lover Annie Cresta…" Me? Beloved? By whom? And lover? To whom?

"It's not like that Thomas," I muttered, instantly defensive.

"Oh it's not?" Thomas laughed a laugh so hearty I was scared a career would find us. Could they even hear us? We should have been more on our guard.

Thoughts were swirling in my mind, consuming anything the least bit coherent and the best I could sum up out of all of Thomas' emotions and mine was, "If you're so angry…kill me. Get back at Finn." I was taunting him, like I would Finnick.

And while I waited for an explosive shout from him…it never came. "I would just be hurting me," Thomas whispered dejectedly.

It didn't make sense…his way of thinking. "How? I'd be one less threat…if I were even one to begin with. You'd be victor. You'd have fame, glory, outshine Odair." I said; ready to help him plot my death like a mental victim.

Thomas scoffed, and a small part of me admired the humor left in him, whether it was facetious or perverse. "There wouldn't be much to outshine if I killed the girl he loves," He sighed, standing up. "I'm sure we'd both be a little pathetic, now wouldn't we? Me, a murderous villain and him, a loveless puppet," He offered me a hand, staring at me.

"I don't want to do this Thomas." I whispered, wishing I could wish the conversation, or better yet the situation away.

He pulled me to my feet. "Well, all I can offer you Ann, is an alliance. And even in the end…if we're the last two standing, I would expect you to take me."

I felt my throat go dry as I remembered the times Finnick and Thomas used to hunt around our nets and how happy and carefree they were. Without Thomas, Finn would be miserable. That was his best friend. And such a sacrifice, for me of all people, seemed so repulsive. Who was I to Finn really? A friend who abandoned him. A girl who wept and fought and gave him all the tortures of hell…and then there was Thomas, sweet Thomas who didn't deserve death...who hadn't already accepted it. "You were his friend Thomas…I couldn't do that." Thomas had faced enough trouble for a lifetime, he deserved something good…and that's what victor's got, right?

But Thomas insisted on his proposal. "He didn't put me up to this. He'd want you to. I even want you to." He said sadly, but a new emotion washed over him. "I'm here to protect you Annie and that's what I'm going to do." This courageous offer was admirable, but stupid.

"Who decided that?" I challenged him.

Somehow, like Finn, Thomas knew how to fight me, but his technique differed. "I did. Not Finn. I know he would have wanted both of us to come out and if we had been here at different times…maybe we would but…I talked to him about it. I wasn't ok with keeping you safe then, but it'll be like my last good deed," He said as if he sought out for some mystical redemption that only the salvaging of my life could produce. It was ridiculous.

"No Thomas…It's stupid to sacrifice yourself for me," I shook my head in disbelief as ideas of their conversations started to form. The visions I painted in my mind all seemed surreal and they all seemed to end poorly.

"I'm not. This is my last good deed to Finn," He assured me. "I owe him."

But debt or none, the idea of a sacrifice made me weak. It was a sacrifice for a moment that would never last.


	19. Runaway

I am so nervous/excited about this chapter and the next few chapters coming soon. I hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I've enjoyed writing them! So let me know what you think! Happy Reading!

**Runaway: **Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

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><p>Thomas and I worked out a deal. When it came to the end…we would fight equally, and whoever died…no matter who it was, would come out the victor. We'd put everything aside. Finnick. Me. Him. None of that would matter in the end.<p>

In Thomas' promise to protect me, he ushered us to hunt. "Has Finnick given you any supplies?" He asked as we trekked across the forest. Everything had been so quiet. There was a false sense of security lingering in the air.

I shook my head, gathering edible plants. "No, I haven't given him any reason to." I answered honestly, recalling my little movement in the past few days.

"For now we can make do with what we have." And we did. We camped out in the cave, building a fire small enough to where it would go undetected by any unwanted predators. We kept quiet for the most part, listening for anyone or anything. But there was nothing.

The arena was quiet. There had been only two deaths today. The boy from Five and the girl from Three. My mind was the only active noise for me. "You were fine with him at the ceremonies…what happened?" I finally asked after hours of pondering over the events.

Thomas didn't answer right away. He chewed more on his dinner and then leaned back on a smoother rock. "I saw him kiss you. And I knew we weren't playing fair anymore." He said, folding his arms behind his head. He seemed so relaxed. "I've heard the rumors about Finn…" That made me uneasy. But I knew I had a better chance of getting information from Thomas than Finnick.

"What rumors?" I asked quietly.

But I was wrong. "Look…that doesn't matter right now. All that matters is getting out of this arena," Thomas answered hastily. I frowned, falling back into my thoughts. Thomas could see my worry and doubt. I had never been good at hiding my emotions. "Annie, Finnick loves you...I personally don't think you'll ever have a chance at a happy life with him, but I hope that I can help make that somewhat of a possibility for you two. Because you both deserve that..." He said, mulling over his own thoughts and fears. There was something else behind Thomas' initial mumbling but I didn't ask.

I did worry for him though. "And what about you?" I asked him after a few moments passed. "You have something to live for."

Thomas chuckled and shook his head, "No, my parents are gone. I would have no lover…she'd be gone too." That made me curious but I didn't question him. "But you and Finn…he's loved you since Four, Ann."

I don't know what made it so difficult to accept Thomas' sacrifice, but I still detested the idea. "No Thomas. I really can't…" I stuttered. I should have just not fought him. I didn't know anything about Thomas really. Finnick only told me stories of his mischief. I knew he was an orphan. His parents died at sea. I knew he was brilliant but that again was mostly because of his marks in school and his wit when it came to getting himself and Finn out of trouble. I didn't know what Thomas did for fun, who he loved, what his favorite meal was, or even his strength when it came to surviving…other than hunting. But Thomas knew more about me than I could have imagined. He knew Finn's place in my life. He knew the books I read, the things I laughed at, the things I fought for…

We didn't speak for a long time. I knew I must've looked frustrated because he offered a small, even apologetic smile, "We don't have to worry about either of us dying tonight."

He was wrong. At some point in the night, we were alerted by the ground that started to move violently. "Annie!" He shouted, pulling me out of the cave. He looked for some place safe, but there was nowhere to stand, there were only objects to dodge. The earth quaked and we weaved through falling branches and rocks. It wasn't until we reached the Cornucopia that it stopped. "The Gamemakers are pushing us back together," He whispered. The Careers were close now. We stayed very quiet, listening for them. "Annie…go hide," He breathed, holding his ground.

"I'm fighting with you."

His face became very pale. "No Annie, go hide." Thomas pushed me back into the mouth of the forest. I searched for a tree to climb, but I had never been good at scaling bark. So instead, I found a hollow that I hid in. There were distant sounds of fighting and struggle, and then silence. I hadn't heard anything for a while. Panic began to set in. Thomas came searching for me. I slinked out of the tree and he caught me by the arm. The cannon had gone off in the earthquake. The only ones left alive were the Careers and the boy from Eight. "They're hunting us," Thomas whispered. So we hid from them. We survived, with a lot of help from Finnick's parachutes, and we stayed out of sight. Tying knots kept me sane while we waited the Careers out. It wasn't long until they found the boy from Eight and killed him. Thomas and I were the last ones on their radar before they turned on each other. "We can't keep hiding…" He told me one night. "They're going to find us eventually. And if they don't, the Gamemakers will be sure to push us towards them."

"You're right," I agreed. So, we agreed to find them the next day, but our plans were interrupted.

I knew when the branch broke we were in trouble. I looked up and the girl from One was standing over us both, bow and arrow ready. She smirked expecting us to plead for our lives, but Thomas was quick. He took his blade and cut through her in one clean move. "Run Annie!" I broke for it, sprinting out deeper into the forest with Thomas on my heels, but the Careers were fast. One was throwing knives, the other axes. We ran to an edge where rocks were stacked, Thomas climbed first and pulled me up. "Snare them!" He commanded. Instantly I grabbed the unfinished net from my bag, tying off the snare, as quick as my fingers would move. In minutes, I had a net ready and tossed it over the boy from Two. He was trapped, slashed apart by an axe thrown by his counterpart. The girl from Two was the most lethal. She was out to kill and thirsty for blood. They waited for us, not able to reach us.

Days went by and they waited at the bottom of the rock pile for us. I thought we were safe until the Gamemakers became bored again. Another earthquake struck, but this one was bigger than the last two. Thomas and I came crashing down to the ground as the rocks shifted under our feet. And that's when it happened. As soon as we touched the ground, she threw her last axe. The blade was aimed at me, slicing through the air and I couldn't move. My feet were rooted to the ground, until a heavy force slammed into my body, moving me out of the way. Thomas was dead. Severed at the neck. I wanted to cry and scream, but adrenaline rushed through me. The earth was still shaking violently. My movements were clumsy and now the last of the Careers were on my pursuit. I kept running until I heard a large crack in the air. It sounded like a heavy roll of thunder.

The dam had broken. Water rushed into the arena. We retreated. The girl from Two trying to climb up trees and the boy from One trying to outrun the waves. I scuttled halfway up one tree and tried to withstand the waves. But one by one, we were peeled off and tossed into angry floodwaters. The arena was filling fast, so fast that we were carried up past the treetops.

A cannon sounded, signaling one death by drowning. I waded in the water, avoiding debris. My clothes gathered and bunched around me, making it hard to move. I fought the angry waves just like I would have in Four. I swam recklessly trying to find some resting place, forgetting that I had one last competitor. The girl from Two. She grabbed my ankle and pulled me down, forcing my shoulders down. I tried to fight her but she was stronger. I pushed her off of me, almost ready to accept that she would kill me, until I remembered Thomas. Thomas and Finnick. Finnick and my father. My father and my mother. I would get out. Rage rushed through me and I swam harder than I ever had. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down to the depths of the water. She fought, but she couldn't swim. I let go of her and the waves kept us far enough apart. She thrashed trying to force herself back up but clothes snagged on a branch and instead of helping her, I swam away. I panicked. I watched her lifeless body and then took off further in the water, worried that she would come back and kill me. She didn't move, only floated against the branches. I swam back up to the surface, almost to air, but the water became rough and I became weak.

I couldn't breathe. My body was pushed under by the rapid floodwaters as they began to reach the top of the arena. I felt my lungs succumb to breathlessness. I felt my body sinking and my strength leaving. Energy left me. That hope…gone. I swore I would die here in this arena, but again, fate had another plan.


	20. Home

**Home: **Mumford and Sons.

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><p>"Annie!" He ran to me, "Annie! You've done it!" He cried, hugging me, kissing me. I couldn't react. I just held him. "I love you so much Annie!" His hands examined my face greedily, discovering the restorations and cleaning up the Capitol had done before I could be returned in to civilization. "You've done it!" He pushed back my hair, still studying. And although I desperately wanted to respond, I couldn't. "Annie, what's wrong?"<p>

Tears pricked at my eyes, and he was all I could think of, "Thomas." I finally said. "He…He's gone." I cried into Finnick's chest. "I'm so sorry!"

Finnick hugged me tighter, letting his fingers tangle in my hair, "It's ok Annie. You're free now. It's ok," He whispered in my ear, kissing me again. It was safe here in his arms. I was free from the game and I was ok.

I wanted to stay in Finn's arms forever but they tore me away for my last interview. Cora was pleased to see me again, placing me in a long, fitting gold dress with a beautiful long net made from gold colored tulle, intricately woven. He left my hair down, curly with pretty white flowers intertwined in the waves…as my mother would. Everything seemed so different now. Part of me was in reality but the other part was still in the arena, hiding. Once I was out on the stage with Caesar, I was able to sort my thoughts.

"Congratulations Annie Cresta! Victor of the 70th Hunger Games!" Caesar announced. The crowds cheered, I could see them clapping and screaming but all I could hear were the waves. They were haunting. Panem praised me. I was a victor. But I felt so much less. I came back though.

I grinned, "Thank you! Thank you everyone!" I waved back, as happy as I could muster. My dress constricted me as I walked towards the chair beside Caesar. Smiling weakly, I let my arms wave gracefully, as if I were home, swimming. I was anxious, waiting for my first question as Victor.

Caesar shook my hand and embraced me before motioning me to sit. "Now Annie, we all admire your spirit!" He grinned as the Capitol audience applauded again. "Not a single kill! For the entire two weeks…amazing!" He exclaimed, watching me and then looking towards the audience for a response. They cheered and some looked shocked, but he continued, "I think what really won us over, though was the pact between you and your District Four counterpart, Thomas." Caesar didn't bother to pause, but kept explaining past events to the audience…as if they weren't all watching. "I can honestly say, of all the years I've hosted the Games, I've never seen such a complicated trio," He said to me with his same smile on.

He turned to the audience, "As you all recall, Finnick Odair, our youngest victor, was both Thomas and Annie's mentor…but there was something more there, yes?" He asked me.

I nodded and cleared my throat, "Yes. Finnick and Thomas were best friends when we were young." I said as I began twisting my ring around my finger.

Caesar politely nodded and kept smiling, then he raised an eyebrow and his grin became more subdued and cheeky. "And you and Finnick?"

I could feel my blood rising. I blushed furiously, "Oh, well, Finnick and I were really good friends as well." I said flawlessly.

Caesar leaned back a little in his chair and crossed his legs. "If I recall from the games, Thomas revealed something to our audience that was quite shocking…you and Finnick…that couldn't have made this entire process easy," He said coyly, letting the audience 'ooh' and 'ah' accordingly.

My dress felt tighter and my heart was beating rapidly. I had forgotten about the cameras in the arena. That was my biggest mistake to surviving...forgetting they were always watching. "It was difficult adjusting, yes." I said quietly.

Caesar smiled, as if to reassure me. "Was Finnick the boy back home?" He asked with a kind look in his eyes. It only frightened me more. _Should I be revealing all of this? _

"Yes," I squeaked almost automatically.

A silence fell over the audience. "But there was another chink in the plan," Caesar said with a staged sorrowful look. "Let's watch, shall we?"

I was confused. The reel of the Games began to play. I didn't watch most of it…until I saw Thomas. He had been searching for me from the start. _"Annie!" _He called out. It didn't make sense to me at first…but then things started falling into to place. Piece by piece it became very clear. Thomas Reed had loved me too. I was the girl Thomas loved. I was his last good deed to Finnick. Three hours passed as the audience watched with excitement. Three hours passed and I felt like my world had just flipped upside down. Thomas' death left me a wreck, but I didn't let them see me cry.

"Wonderful! Wonderful performance Annie Cresta!" Caesar congratulated me, getting the entire audience to cheer yet again. All eyes were on me.

The words came out before I could stop them, "He loved me?" I whispered. I was hoping no one had heard, but I knew it hadn't gone unnoticed. Caesar played my faux pas off well.

He took my hand and then pulled me from my chair. "And we all love you! Annie Cresta, the girl who won not only the heart of two men but the nation of Panem as well." He said, lifting my hand in the air and allowing the crowd to praise me.

Emotions surged through me, but the worst of the night was the panic of being crowned Victor by President Snow. He approached me and the smell of roses violated my senses. He placed the crown on my head, "Such a beautiful Victor, wanted by all of Panem." He said, running his hand across my cheek. And although his smile was commercial, there was a hungry glint in his eyes. Then he turned to the crowd, and lifted my hand like Caesar had, "Annie Cresta!" He shouted, "A ray of innocence and beauty." I smiled at my many descriptions, but fear set into the depths of my soul. Something wasn't right. Whether it be the haunting memory of Thomas, replaying the games, or President Snow's kind private words to me…something wasn't right and that terrified me.

When I finally found Finnick, I thought my heart would find relief, but instead it only worsened. "Annie! They love you!" He said, with a bright grin and a big embrace. When I didn't hug back, he grew tense and worried. "Annie, are you alright?" He asked, searching my face.

I furrowed my brow, watching him with a new seriousness. "Did you know about Thomas?" I asked quietly.

"What? No." I didn't doubt him. Although Finnick never told me the entire truth, he hasn't lied to me. It was in his eyes. The sadness that had been apparent before the Games, reappeared, but it wasn't my mortality he worried about anymore. Finnick pulled me to the elevator as soon as all the congratulations were over. "Annie, I'm sorry. I didn't know they were going to ask…or that Thomas was going to do…" Finnick looked genuinely distraught. That was the first time I saw Finnick break down. Tears silently streamed down his face and when the elevator stopped, we sat in the hallway that lead to our apartment. I held him, crying with him.

"It's ok," I whispered to him, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. Worry was still in the back of my mind, but I knew this wasn't easy on Finn. He kissed me, trying to avoid his sadness, but I stopped him, holding his face in my hands. Eventually, Mags came out and found us, trying to give us some peace of mind and comfort as well. She told us we did the right thing, that Thomas loved us both. She congratulated me and told us to get some rest before we left for home. "Are we in trouble?" I asked him when we went inside. I went into Finnick's room, this time I was the one to spend the night.

He shook his head, while we stayed in his bed. "No. No, why? What happened?" He asked as I curled up against his side.

I told him. I told him my thoughts about Thomas, how upset I was, how he said he 'owed' Finn. I told him about the President. Finnick didn't speak for a long time. "Annie, I need you to be patient with me, and to not hate me when I tell you everything," He whispered, sinking down to my level and hooking his hand around my ear.

I shook my head and kissed his palm. "I could never hate you."

He smiled as he pushed my hair out of my eyes, but the look of worry returned quickly, "No. No, Ann. You very much could. When we're back in Four and I tell you everything…I need you to trust me completely." He instructed me quietly.

I pressed my hand against his chest where his heart was, "I trust you Finn."


	21. Absolute

And here it is! The chapter we've all been waiting for! This one is the one I am MOST excited/nervous about. I'm going to try to have the next update ready soon but my spring break just ended so...I will do my best to be as timely as I have been. Thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoy! :)

**Absolute: **The Fray

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><p>The trip back to Four was a silent one. Getting off the train was different. All of Four was waiting for me and unlike Finnick, I was a timid victor. "Annie?" I heard a familiar call and my heart leapt. "Mama!" I ran to my family and hugged both my mother and father tightly, tears filling my eyes.<p>

"I love you so much!" My mother cried, kissing me over and over on the cheeks.

"My girl!" Papa grinned, hugging me tightly. "I knew you could do it!" He told me with tears falling down his cheeks. I had missed them so much. Finnick's family was next and it was reassuring to know how many people were on my side. The afternoon whirred by, and although everyone doted on me, wanting to talk to me, wanting to ask me about Finn, and the games…we took off into the night just like the night of Finnick's return.

Finnick took me to the bank. He didn't talk right away. Instead he paced. Back and forth he marched across the sand and then he sank down to sit beside me. "We need a plan." He said finally.

I watched the waves rise and crash down in the light of the moon. "What's going on Finn?"

He shook his head, "I don't know how to tell you Annie." He was fidgeting. I had never seen him so nervous.

I pushed his hair back with a warm smile, "Tell me." He was so still, trapped in his thoughts. So I leaned into him, wrapping my hands around his arm, "There was a plan forming last night…why? What are you fighting against?" I asked him quietly.

He sighed. It was one word, so simple. I couldn't miss it. "Snow." My heart dropped.

"What will he do to you?" I asked quietly, my heart drumming loudly deafening almost every thought.

Finnick's eyes flickered from me to the waves, "Nothing more than what he's already done." He leaned into me letting my head rest on his shoulders and his free arm reaching for me. "It's what he'll try to do to you." He said quietly, his voice cracking slightly.

A wave of shock washed over me. Things didn't make sense again. A victor's life was a life of luxury, wasn't it? Finnick spent so much time in the Capitol and it was because he loved it there? I didn't realize until this moment that Finnick had been hiding so much more from me than just where he ran off. "Me? We're victors though… they can't hurt us?" I asked childishly, ignorantly.

He sighed, taking back his free arm and letting grains of sand run through his fingers. "Yes Annie, they very much can." He said with a gulp. He folded his lips in tightly and then spoke in a very stern voice. "I don't want him to hurt you anymore." Finnick said, gruffly, but even in his anger, he couldn't disguise the pain of betrayal. "He made a promise a few years ago and didn't live up to that…" The waves crept further on to the bank. The air was warm that night, but Finnick thought it was better to go back to his old house near the square. He took my hand and led me up the trail in silence.

When we reached the old house, he fell back into his thoughts, and I knew it was imperative for him to tell me everything now…but like him, I didn't really know what I wanted to know. "Finn, what scares you?" I asked quietly as he started a fire.

We sat on opposite sides of the couch. He didn't answer for awhile, but when he did…it made me cringe. "Them killing you." He said finally. Whatever Finnick did, he did it to protect me. He sacrificed everything for me, while I took to a selfish entitlement of love.

"The Capitol?" I squeaked.

He moved closer to me, but still kept his distance. "Annie they're not our friends. You know, as well as I, why we're thrown into the Games every year…it's to show every District that they still own us. And why don't Victors run home free? Because they still own us. The Capitol takes vicious murders and transforms them into weak victims." I knew he was right, but I was still confused.

"So what did they do to you?" I ran my hand over the dark, worn couch to meet his hand. I pulled my legs on the couch, folding my knees into my chest.

Finnick pulled his hand away and watched me with unease. I wrapped my arms around myself as a new drafty chill lingered in the room. "They sold me." Finnick's voice rang throughout the room and a horror stabbed at my chest. He wouldn't look at me and I knew Finnick detested himself. Any time he refused to look at something, he was ashamed of something. "That's where I went all those weekends."

My heart was demolished. I literally felt my heart stop. It was as if my entire body had just ripped at the seams, like my bones had disjointed. "But you were so young."

Finnick shook his head, staring absentmindedly at the flame. "It started more innocent. First, President Snow kept me as the flirt, told me I was the face of the Capitol and stupidly, I believed him. So I attended parties and wooed the women of the Capitol but once I turned seventeen that changed."

It wasn't registering. "He sold you as a…" I stuttered.

"Whore," Finnick sighed. To hear him say it was painful and distressing. "Yes. I am a disgusting, weak Capitol whore." He had a small smile on his face, but of course his self-effacing humor reminded me how unhappy he actually was.

"Oh, Finn…" I breathed. Something still didn't make sense. Finnick had power…how could he not use it to his advantage? "But you're a victor…you could have refused?"

He shook his head again. "President Snow promised he'd kill my family that was the first persuasion."

The idea of Capitol Officials invading District Four and making a public scene of the Odair family brought me to a new fear and conclusion. "Which is why you couldn't come back?" A single tear slipped down my cheek. I hid my face from Finnick, watching the flames dance with small embers on the hearth.

"He said he'd kill you." Finnick broke the silence and suddenly I didn't want to know anymore. But I knew we had to keep going. "That's why I stayed in the Capitol. I wanted to be here Annie." He reached for my hand and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. That I didn't doubt at all.

I sat up, enraged and in fear. "The President? The one who's supposed to be protecting us…?" I snapped, watching the fire building and then die down.

"Isn't above killing no," Finnick answered solemnly. "He keeps tributes as prisoners and uses us as pawns to keep the Capitol running," Finnick said, equally angry. "He's a murderer." He growled.

Finnick had faced awful things, all in reward for surviving. Anger left and sadness trilled in my voice, "I am so sorry." I crawled across the couch to him and curled up to his side. He sank beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"Don't be," He whispered, kissing my forehead, "I would have been mad if I had been you."

I looked up to him, letting my hand rest on his chest. "So you're afraid he's going to sell me too?"

Finnick sat up, "I'm afraid he'll try…but he won't." He said, putting both hands on my shoulder.

I felt insecure with Finnick's handsome eyes watching me so close. "I'm not beautiful like the women in the Capitol…so what will happen when he can't sell me?" I felt insecure knowing that my body was so scrawny, my hair was a plain color, I wasn't extravagant in any way, shape, or form. I was simply a girl from District Four.

Finnick looked in pain, "Annie…you're more than beautiful. You're better than the women of the Capitol, which is why Snow is so interested in you!" He exclaimed holding my face with both his hands. His eyes inspected me and there was a true look of happiness there. "You're desirable. You're everything they want in the Capitol: innocent, beautiful, radiant…perfection. They want you and they'll pay…" He hooked his hand behind my ear and the happiness left as we both thought more on my future.

I grabbed his wrists, and then reached up to his neck, pulling him closer to me. "Finnick…"

"Do you still want to know everything?" He asked, forehead pressed to mine.

I nodded. "Yes," and I separated myself from him, "How did you save us in the arena? I didn't fight. That looked awful to sponsors." I knew the answer before he said it, but I had to be reassured. My body ached as the truth sank in.

"I found you sponsors." He whispered.

And I couldn't take it anymore. "Ok. No more," I breathed. It was sick, painful what they did to Finnick. "No more."

"I'm sorry Annie." He watched the fire and then let rested his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. I wish he had told me sooner.

But I didn't hate him for it…because I would have died a million deaths to protect him if I had to. I would have fought in a hundred Hunger Games…and actually fought. I would have charmed a thousand men to save the one. "No. No, you did what you had to. And that's why I love you…but this…this is…" I lost my words. Evil wasn't enough to describe the Capitol. Finnick didn't try to fill in blanks, instead he allowed me to let out every frustration, every angry word and harsh thought. "So your customers paid for me?" I asked, exasperated.

Finnick nodded gravely, "There was more persuasion there…instead of actual sex but yes," He said, there were some efforts of him trying keep the situation light, but we both knew there were no positives to come from this. "I did everything I could to keep you safe."

"You slept with the Capitol to save me?" I asked timidly, this time lifting myself on Finnick's lap. He nodded with a curious expression on his face, "And now I'll be sleeping with the Capitol too." I told him, kissing his lips. I broke into a smile, wanting to make Finnick laugh. "We'll make a wonderfully smutty couple…" I said as our lips parted.

Finnick chuckled, "Sleeping with everyone but each other," He whispered, supporting my neck and kissing me again. "But fortunately, my love, we will not share that aspect of our lives." He smiled with a sad glance.

I leaned back on his knees, nestling against his chest, my knees hugging his hips. "I'm not going to let my family or you suffer for my insolence. I can't surrender that. Joke or no joke."

He lifted my chin, "You won't." He said, running his hand through my hair, and placing his free hand on the small of my back to pull me closer. "You won't sacrifice them or me. And you won't be me. I have a plan, but you have to trust me." My hands wrapped around his neck and both of his hands were on my waist.

"I do trust you." I said, pressing my forehead to his.

Finnick let his hands search my face and I truly felt calm in his arms. He pushed back my hair and got my attention when his thumb swept over my lips and then jaw. "I need you to pretend to go mad."

I backed away from him, confused by his request. "What?" I breathed with a furrowed brow.

Finnick looked worried, but tried to keep calm. He kept running his thumb and palm over my cheek. "If Snow sees us parading around as a happy couple, he'll lose a lot of support from happy Capitol members. He'll destroy us and he'll do more than put us in bed with strangers." Finnick lifted me and sat me beside him, "We're going to publicly end our relationship, you're going to say you loved Thomas more than me, watching his death destroyed you, and you're going to go mad. You can stay here in Four and I'll be back as much possible." He said with reassurance, trying to console me, persuade me to warm up to the idea.

"I…" I started.

Finnick stopped me, seeing the doubt in my eyes. "I know it's crazy but…"

I kissed him. "I'll do it. If you think it'll protect us and my family…"

He smiled, that sad look never leaving his eyes, "I do." He said nodding. His hand pressed against my neck, and then his lips. "I love you Annie," He whispered in my ear.

My fingertips grazed his face and I pressed against his cheekbones, then his jaw line. I missed the way he looked at me or how he kissed me. I missed his voice, his laugh, everything about him…I loved it. "I love you too Finn." This would keep us safe. At least in District Four we could revel in the freedom of the waves.


	22. Fight With An Angel

******Angels: **Augustana

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><p>The past two weeks Finnick and I were able to spend our time happily. We would help our parents with their work…just because. We would spend every night on the bank of our private island, talking and laughing…not worried about the Capitol for once. He had wrestled me in the water, winning of course. I made fun of his haughty Capitol smile and then we both practiced our snooty Capitol game faces. I don't remember ever laughing so hard. Finnick was my best friend. I told him everything. We didn't opt for secrets, we didn't play games. "None of this seems real," I told him as we sat around a driftwood fire.<p>

"What doesn't?" He asked.

I sighed, rolling over in the sand. I stared up at the stars forming, "That we're here together…after everything." I looked over at him and he was grinning, "I just never imagined this, I guess." I smiled back. I had never seen a more beautiful sight than his smile.

"Never?" He asked, imitating me and rolling on his back.

"No. Not really. But not because I didn't love you." I told him as the fire crackled behind us. Finnick chuckled.

"Want to know a secret?" He asked me. The stars were twinkling as if angels were smiling down on us.

"I'd love to hear one."

Finnick sat up and hovered over me, pushing my hair out of my eyes, "I thought you were beautiful from the moment I met you." He said, with a charming smile.

I pushed him and laughed, "Oh come on. No, you didn't."

"Ok, I didn't," He chuckled, recovering from the jolt of my strength and pushing his hair back. He shook his head, still smiling at me. I sat up with him, shaking the sand from my hair. "But we were thirteen. No one was beautiful at thirteen. But when I came back from the Games and then left for the Victor's Tour, I never stopped thinking about you." This was genuine. I could tell. It was in his eyes, the way he looked at me.

I smirked, edging closer to him but then back to the fire. "So, when did I make an impression on the famous Finnick Odair?"

Finnick looked into the fire and then back to me, "Three years ago. When you were sixteen and I snuck over to your house that night after my tour." He fell back on the sandy pillow he made for himself, "You came out in a pale blue nightshirt and your hair was really wavy. I could tell you had just woken up, but you looked beautiful. I don't know what it was…but that was the night I knew." He told the stars. The night was quiet, even the waves had calmed and it seemed like Finnick had tamed everything around us. "I didn't want to say goodbye that night."

I grinned, because even if I tried, I couldn't forget that night. It didn't make as big of an impression for me, but every moment with Finnick, I found some greatness in…because I never had a lot of moments with Finnick. "I remember…I wanted to ask if I could come with you."

He shot up. "So you knew before that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I laughed, "I knew six years ago."

He frowned and shook his head, "Show off." He said as he nestled back down. He laughed, leaving his arm open for me. And I wedged myself beside him, like always.

Finnick nudged me, with a broad smile. Everything about that night was perfect. I had just wished we could have made it something more…but neither of us were ready for that. Finn had baggage and I had to be in love with someone else.

On my Victor's Tour, we were forced to become more distant. It started with the two of us doing everything together, like a couple. We were laughing, waving, hugging, all things couples were expected to do. Then once we moved into Districts Nine and Eight, we only sat next to each other. In Seven, we sat on opposite sides of the stages. In Six and Five, we smiled at each other and were cordial, and in my speeches, I began to speak more about my despair for Thomas. In Three, Two, and One, we barely even looked each other's way and I trained myself to cry at the parts of Thomas. Finnick was pleased with my performance, as was I. We really did seem to have drift. We didn't risk anything by sneaking into each other's rooms at night, or kissing when we thought no one saw. We saved that for Four…where we knew our secret love would be kept safe. The Capitol was our best performance yet.

Several fans had followed me throughout the night as we weaved in and out of the party at President Snow's mansion. They asked me how I was, I pretended to be disinterested and standoffish. I asked for Finnick, but couldn't find him, and I knew I wouldn't. We walked through the halls and there he was, with a gorgeous woman of the Capitol. She was tall, slender, with pink skin, golden tattoos all over her body, and a large turquoise wig. His lips were locked to hers and her hands were searching his body. Finnick tangled his hands in her hair, and they wrapped themselves together. Jealousy surged through me, at just the thought that she could publically do everything I couldn't. Finnick looked convincing, but I knew he hated every second of it. "Finnick!" I gasped. My audience looked horrified as well, but some of the ladies blushed, hoping they were next.

"Annie…I…" He sputtered, his necktie undone, his shirt wrinkled, and her hands still around him.

My eyes grew wide and then blank. I felt the singe of what I had witnessed, and there was some reality to our pretending. "We're done here." This is where I had to become imaginative. I ran past my crowd of fans and concealed the herb in my hand, putting it to my eyes so tears would come. I sank down in one of the extravagant mansion hallways.

"Miss Cresta?" Some of my followers asked. I continued to cry. And finally, to one girl who I knew always had a good story to pass on I whispered, "I never loved him." The plump gossip leaned in, "What do you mean dear?"

"I miss Thomas!" I wailed. "I miss him so much!" I sobbed on their fancy dresses, looking a drunken mess. I began to play on hysterics. They huddled around me and I began to cradle myself, rocking back and forth. Finally, I sat up and dried my tears. I looked around confused, "Where is he?" I asked calmly.

The Capitol girls looked confused, "Finnick, Annie?" They asked.

I shook my head with a quaint smile, "No. Where's my Thomas?" I batted my eyelashes, staring at them blankly. I had gone mad. The gossips looked worried. They ran away from me, spreading my story across the party. Finnick had to come back into play. "Annie?" He asked cautiously.

I watched him with a blank stare and innocent smile, "Oh, hello Finnick. Do you know where Thomas is?"

Finnick's panic brought panic amongst the party guests, "Annie, snap out of it!" He said in a harsh enough whisper for several others surrounding us to hear.

The room was full of gasps and confusion, and then fear when President Snow came to our aid, "Finnick, do you think I could see both you and Miss Cresta privately?" He asked, his smile never failing. I sat, still staring blankly and smiling in an airy way.

Finnick grabbed my arm and pretended to try and hide me from the guests. He led me to the President's quarters where we all filed in, waiting for Snow to talk.

I interrupted though, trying to be as insane as I thought necessary. "Thomas, it's the President!" I whispered to him, giggling, loud enough for Snow to hear. I mixed up names, often calling every male Thomas and then using the herb to cry when I deemed it the most inappropriate time to act out.

"What is going on?" Snow asked with a devious look in his eyes.

Finnick shrugged, adding panic to his voice, "She's gone mad sir. I don't know what happened…she's been like this throughout the tour." His voice was strained as well as his expressions. He looked genuinely upset that I had gone "crazy."

President Snow nodded with a look of anger in his eyes. The hunger had melted away. "Well, fix her up and have her presentable. We can't all of Panem seeing our newest Victor is a mental case." He snapped, as politely as I'm sure a president could. "When she's done with her duties, leave her back in Four." He dismissed me. I was useless to him now. There was no need for me, and my beauty had been shadowed by my mental state.

Finnick frowned, staring at the floor, leaving me in a chair to where I only sat and stared blankly at the wall. Picking flowers and twirling seemed like a decent enough option but Snow might find humor in my state and leave me here as a pretty little spectacle for the world to laugh at. "They all know she's mad sir." He said, glancing at me and then back to Snow.

Snow shook his head and frowned, muttering, "Such a shame to see such a pretty girl go mad." Then he looked to Finnick and another devious smile crossed his lips, "And after you loved her for so long." He knew we were playing games.

Finnick jumped at the right moment, letting his voice drop in sadness, "She always loved Thomas."

Snow raised his eyebrow, "You wouldn't know that by the way she confessed her love to you on stage."

But Finn was smart, he denied me ever loving him, "She was scared and thought I could save her." He muttered, shamefully.

"She was right," Snow said, chuckling at Finnick's despair.

He shook his head, almost in tears now, "But she blames me for his death…she hates me now."

"She seems fine." Snow announced staring at me as I looked through him.

Finnick walked over to me and although I desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, I stayed still…I looked through him, I ignored his touch, his voice, his sweet scent of sea water, cologne, and sugar cubs. "This is a better side of her. She stays quiet or sad for days at a time and won't talk…but then she comes back either hating me or confused." He said touching my face, but I didn't move.

"Such a pity," Snow said in the dreadful tone he used when he touched my face. "Such a waste of a beautiful girl." He said, walking up beside Finnick. He put his hand on my face, "She would have been such a wonderful Victor, like you Finnick." I felt my skin chill over, but kept a straight face, staring through him. _It would be over soon. I would be home. I would be free._ I repeated over and over in my head. But I would be without Finnick and if this didn't go well, we'd both be dead.


	23. Hazy

I really want to rant but I don't know where to rant so I'm going to rant here: I hate that people see Annie as absolutely pathetic and weak. That drives me crazy. I don't think JUST the trauma of being in the arena...not killing anyone, mind you, would be enough to drive her to the level of insanity Collins presents her. Which is why I started writing this...because I just don't think someone Finnick loves would be in a helpless, childlike state of life for her entire existence. There had to be a point where she was strong and put together right? I think to get her to the point of fragile everyone tries to paint her as, more would have to go down. There would have to be a lot of moments of despair and misguided attempts of survival to get her to that state of mental instability. Which is what we're working at here. Feel free to disagree...it's an unpopular opinion, but that's all for this rant. I just had to get that out there.

Ok...now time to read. Enjoy! Happy Reading!

**Hazy:** Rosi Golan.

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><p>It bothered me how easy it was for Finnick and me to leave the Capitol the next morning. Or how simple it was to get back to Four. No questions. No tracking device sent from Snow. We were free. Let go completely. Or so I thought. When Finnick and I had boarded the train and it left for Four we caught wind of a nasty rumor mentioning a terrible accident off the coast. We waited at the station for more news, but the streets of Four were quiet. I searched the town but only found a few peacekeepers waiting for us. I shuddered, holding my hands to my mouth, fidgeting oddly to keep in character. Fear crept into me. I would be murdered for my crimes against the Capitol in the safety of my own District. …And now, I wish that had been the case.<p>

"Annie, I'm so sorry." People would say as I passed. It didn't make sense. So I stared back at them with scared eyes.

_For my sanity? _

They apologized. They watched me sympathetically. They wept for me. All of which made me worry more. "Finnick, what's going on?" I asked him quietly when I knew no one was watching. Finnick told me to wait in the square while he asked questions. When Finnick returned, I looked for some glimmer of hope in his eyes, but there was a great amount of despair staring back at me. "Annie…I'm so…"

I shook my head, staring at him, "Don't tell me you're sorry." I said quietly. I watched him with wide eyes, "What happened Finnick?" I whispered.

Finnick pulled me aside out of sight from the curious onlookers in the square and into an old, abandoned shop. "Annie…" He started, trying desperately to speak, but his words were caught. "There was a…your family…I didn't think he'd…" He became dejected and frustrated. With hands to his forehead, he stared up at the low ceiling. I pulled him back down, and I realized the tear falling down his face.

Worry struck me. "Finnick, what happened?" I shrieked, but I already knew. It was something terrible. A gift to me, from the President himself.

The news of my parents' death left me in a very dark place. _They knew. He knew all along. _There was a white rose beside my mother's suicide note. A white rose where my father slipped in the ocean and drowned. Every part of me stopped. The grief came over me like a painful headache, wracking my body with terrible chills and sobs. I threw the roses in the trash, destroying the buds and ripping through fresh petals. _A fresh death. _In a frantic rage, I ran throughout the Victor home to find traces of Snow. The house was empty. With panic still captivating me, I raced to the old cottage that still kept some old belongings in its walls. I clutched the forged note to my chest. Finnick was on my heels. I felt sick. I stopped at the door and crashed to my knees. "No!" I cried. Finnick caught me and held me while I wept. "Annie," He said, running his hand through my hair and holding me close. When I calmed down we went inside and I rummaged through old things. I read the note again and again.

"_Annie darling, I'm so sorry. Your father's death…destroyed me. The waves are cruel love. He was my light. I love him. Without him, I was trapped in my own mind. In death, I'll be free. Surely, you understand? I'm sorry I'm not with you. I'm sorry I'm weak. Stay safe in the Capitol. I love you darling. Be my sweet girl. Be my beautiful girl. Love, Mommy." _He made her write it. Taunting me. "I thought it would stop him." Finnick whispered as I kept reading the note.

I crumpled the note, "I wasn't convincing enough." I breathed, almost in tears. It was her handwriting, but not her words. _Stay safe in the Capitol. _As if anyone in the Districts believed there was a better life there. It was a lie. I could see the peacekeepers now…holding a knife to her, tossing my father in the ocean waves, telling them it was the only way to save me. Making me their victim…It was all a lie. Only a few words I knew could only belong to her…but not even the reminders of freedom or feebleness or beauty could convince me that she had taken her own life in light of my father's untimely death. Instead, they only reassured me that their blood was shed by the Capitol hand and that Finnick and I were still puppets in their game.

Finnick reached across the table, running his hand over mine. "This wasn't your fault." He told me.

For once, I didn't want his touch. I pushed his hand away from me. "Who's was it?" I asked, still folding the creases of the note until the edges became so worn the note disintegrated in my hands.

Finnick watched me, nervously. "It was mine," He whispered.

I shook my head, and watched him sympathetically. "They were never going to let us live Finn." It was true. We weren't supposed to live. That's why my parents were gone…because we escaped the life the Capitol had reserved for us.

"You don't know that," He breathed, holding my shoulders and kneading the sore muscles.

I stood up with a small mourning smile. "I do," I sighed. "They were never going to let us live happy. And honestly…without that, what would be the point in living?" I asked him, holding his hands in mine for a short minute. His hands were rough, and calloused still. They were strong.

"So what do we do now?" Finnick asked, pulling me in.

Tears pricked at my eyes as my anger at the Capitol grew. "I go mad. Like we planned," I told him, pressing my cheek against his chest. I looked up at him and reached towards his face, pushing the little strands of hair from his eyes. "And hope you'll still love me in the end." I said with a soft smile. Sadness was still streaming through me and I felt even lonelier.

Finnick wrapped his hands around my ears, pressing his forehead against mine, "I'll always love you."

I held his wrists and kissed his lips for an even shorter second; reveling in the small amount of comfort he brought me, "Always is a long time." My voice was hoarse. Hot tears were now searing my cheeks as they fell.

He kept holding my face, pushing tears from my eyes and watching me fearfully, "Annie, promise you'll come back?" He asked, terrified and worried. He stroked my face, as if he were remembering the details through touch.

A small smile crossed my lips, still as sorrow filled and gentle, mimicking Finnick's soft beams when he looked at me, even when he was distraught. "Only when I'm with you," I whispered. From now on, I had to be Capitol created…like Finn's arrogance, I had to play mad. It was one life or the other, and if my parents died for the way I chose, I would never surrender. I would never let them take me.

Finnick stayed for as long as he could. He refused to leave me, even when I spent the days going through my parents' old things. My mother's prized hairpins, old pictures, my father's old watch my mother bought him as a wedding gift. One of her necklaces. It was gold with a thin chain and a tiny jewel hanging as a pendant. Finnick left me alone when I wanted to be, but I never really wanted him to leave. It was so rare we could have each other and actually enjoy the other's company…so even in mourning, we worked out ways to stay happy. I couldn't live without Finnick. With him, everything made sense. I saw the world for what it really was. But I felt safe. With him, I felt like I could take on the Capitol…but without him, I felt like the weak Annie Cresta of Panem…caught in a net and mad.

"Don't leave me," He would whisper to me when I got quiet and sat at the hearth of the fire. If I stayed on the porch too long, he would come sit with me. When I crawled into bed and hid under piles of covers, he'd come hide with me. If I stayed out by the bank too long, he would come find me.

And I always came back…even when I never intended to leave.


	24. Us Against the World

This is kind of short and rushed, but necessary even though there isn't a great deal of important detail or information here. Hope you enjoy! Happy Reading!

**Us Against the World: **Coldplay

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><p>"You're back!" I squealed when Finnick walked through the door of my lonely cottage. I dropped my book and ran towards him; my hair fell in my face.<p>

He laughed, spinning me, "I'm back."

"Oh, I've missed you so much." I whispered in his ear. We did this every time he came home. He would put me down, stroke my cheek and then push back my hair.

"Annie, I can't tell you how much I've missed you." He would mutter to me, kissing me. Then I would break our silences because I couldn't handle quiet anymore.

"How was your visit?" I would ask him, grabbing him a drink or anything that he asked for…which was never much.

"I think you know how it was…" He would sigh over tea.

I reached across the table to run my hand through his auburn hair, trying to reassure him. "Oh my darling, I wish things would be better." But my attempts were weak. We were full of wishes, but out of hope.

He shook his head with a smile. He would be twenty soon. "Don't we both," He chuckled. Smiling for Finnick almost seemed natural again, but worrying seemed to overpower his happiness. Finnick's lips curved inward and he looked older now. There was a small glint of joy in his eyes. "I love you so much," He breathed, holding my hand to his face. "How have you been?" He asked succumbing to anxiety again.

I didn't want to talk about it. I repressed it, pretending none of it was destroying me to everyone else. With Finnick though, I couldn't ever seem to keep things to myself. "Better. I still miss them though," I said without thought. "I'm still mad. I worry all of them out there." I said, lifting my eyes to the window, the outside hidden by blue curtains.

He sipped his tea, "You're very convincing…I'm a little worried even." He said quietly, placing his mug down and watching me carefully.

"Me too," I said honestly. My voice was quiet and breaking.

Finnick's eyes latched to me and his hands followed, grabbing mine, "I'm so sorry I did this to you."

His kissed my hands but I pulled them away from him, "Stop. You didn't do this." I told him, trying to keep my smile intact, "Being sold to half the Capitol would have destroyed me even more than this. At least this way…they're safe." I shied away from anxiety and the thoughts that haunted me nightly.

His eyes shined, "They are safe." He wrapped a strong hand around mine. "And you'll be safe," He said finally, holding my hand in his and kissing my fingertips. I grinned, knowing he intended to keep that promise for a long time.

It took some healing, and ignoring Finnick's string of lovers trailing from the Capitol. It took some talks with his family, remembering mine…forgetting what happened to us, but Finn and I did have a few years alone and happy. There were tough times when we'd get furiously angry with each other. Being cooped up without anyone other than Finnick's family to talk to us really strained our relationship. We could never leave the privacy of the old cottage I grew up in, and if we did, it was only to escape to Finnick's old home. We didn't approach Victor's Village together. It would be a stupid chance to take. We spent most of our time hiding, and that bothered Finn. But when we were safe, we found things to smile about.

One morning he waltzed into the kitchen humming the most ridiculous tune. He twirled me around and then dipped me. "Finnick!" I laughed, "What are you doing?" The food on the stove, burning, but he didn't seem to notice.

He twirled me and I, unfortunately tripped and found every way to look foolish, even in his arms. "Really…the lightest person in Four dances like a baby elephant," He laughed, watching my feet trip over themselves. He pulled me up, still chuckling,"It's ok my love, stand on my feet! I can bear the weight." He said dramatically, grinning at me and kissing me on the cheek. He spun me around and, ironically, begged me not to step on his toes.

Other mornings he would hold me reminding me all the things I loved about him. His sweet smile, his gentle touch, his deep voice and hearty laugh were only pieces of why I loved him.

"You're so beautiful," He would whisper as the sun peeked out of lazy clouds that swirled above the ocean. He'd push my hair back like always and lean over me, and I'd laugh and kiss his nose or cover his eyes, anything I thought would bring a handsome smile to his face.

I loved us. I loved how happy he made me. I loved his laugh and the way he knew how to get me to smile. We joked about anything and everything. If I wanted to paint, he would paint with me, and both would be horrific, unfortunate mishaps on a canvas and we would compare.

"What is that? A dog? A dog suffering from blood poisoning?" I asked, giggling.

He frowned, blushing slightly. "It was supposed to be that tree over there…" He said, pointing out into the thin forest. He peered over at my painting, "What's yours?" He laughed, raising an eyebrow at the splashes of random color on my canvas. "Is that a cloud?"

I shook my head, laughing again. "No. It's you. It's in the perfect likeness of Finnick Odair."

Finnick studied the poorly created painting, "Well, aren't you a phenomenal artist…with a wonderful subject, may I add." He said, posing in front of me.

"It's really supposed to be a boat." I admitted with another chuckle.

Finnick sighed, shaking his head, standing back and looking over the paintings, "We're no good at this."

I nodded with a smirk, "Oh…we're awful." He smiled and then insisted on picking a new task to spend our time.

Everything with him was wonderful, even when we were angry at each other. Being with him, that was good enough. Our love was private, but still the best thing to ever happen to me. When Finnick was around, everything was completely in place. When he was gone…I was a mess. I spent a lot of my time cleaning and re-cleaning. If I grew weary of that, I'd draw, cook, or go out to the water and swim, or tie knots…but I never sat alone and thought. That was dangerous.

My mind would blur at nights. Dreams didn't really make much sense and a lot of times, especially when Finnick was away I didn't sleep. When he was there and I did find some peace, I would often wake up screaming. Finn would lull me back to sleep, but there wasn't much peace for him either. If I wasn't terrified by my nightmares, Finnick would be haunted with his. "It was just a dream Finn…" I would whisper to get him back to sleep. "I'm here."

Nights were the worst for us.

When I remembered my parents' death and Snow's forged letters, he remembered all the deeds of his past. But that's how we lived for four years. There was happiness there and even chaos we found some even ground. There wasn't much that could distract us from our routines. Not even Finnick's frequent trips to the Capitol. Eventually, Finn and I were slowly escaping the arena and returning to the place we once called home.


	25. Mind

****It feels like forever since I last updated and I am so sorry for that! I hope you all enjoy this little installment. Happy Reading!

**Where is My Mind: **Smith Girls version.

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><p>Happiness can only exist in acceptance…I read that somewhere, once. Or maybe my mother read it to me. Either way, no matter the source, they were right. Finnick and I were only happy after we had accepted our fate, unfortunately, at the time we thought our fate was just to go on with life, shut away from the world. Little did either of us know home was farther away as each day passed and the arena was so much closer.<p>

I was twenty- two. It had been the three-year anniversary of my parents' deaths. I had spent three years in practical solitude. Finnick was gone more now, mentoring his tributes, courting the Capitol. Both were unsettling thoughts with even worse memories. Some years I would attempt to help mentor, but feigning madness made me unstable. So, I stayed unstable in District Four. I stayed unstable for all the world to see. When I went out to the market, they all stared, stared like I would break into a million pieces, like I was a ticking time bomb ready to shatter at the pull of a pin. When I went to see Finnick's parents, although they welcomed me with open arms…they knew I was crumbling. But holding things together became easier over time. If ever I was lost, I tied knots.

Finnick had just turned twenty-four. We were happy and we were together, that's all I could have wanted. The reminder of the upcoming reaping loomed over us, but tonight, like the night before our first painful introduction to the reality of the Games, was ours.

"What'd you wish for?" I asked him when he blew out the candle on the small cake his mother made for our little party.

"I don't know." He said, leaning back on the blanket I had laid out on the beach. It was nice, the small picnic we had to celebrate another year of Finn's life. His parents and brother joined us earlier in the day, but at this point, they left us alone to a private celebration. "I have everything, don't I?"

I watched the waves, leaning into his arms, "I don't know…do you?" I asked quietly. The stars were hidden by clouds.

He nodded, "I do." He said, as he started listing off blessings. "I have my health. My family. Fame. Fortune. You…" Finnick looked down at me with his deep sea green eyes.

I smirked, "You have me?" I asked, lifting my eyebrow.

Finnick smiled and then blushed, "Well, not officially…but…" He chuckled nervously and then in seriousness asked, "Do you like this?"

"Do I like what?" He seemed fidgety. I watched him clench his jaw and then relax.

He shrugged, still holding his arm around me tightly. "That we're not really anything."

I frowned, still watching the waves crash over one another, "Aren't we?"

Finnick shook his head, letting his bronze hair fall into his eyes. "Yeah, but I mean…I don't know. I love you." He said, squeezing me.

"That's enough for me." I told him, kissing him on the cheek. It was a different moment of longing for Finnick. One that made sense, but it lingered in territory we were too scared to enter.

"You don't ever want to get married?" He asked me, his deep voice was low matching the rumbling of the waves.

I shrugged, creating a small distance between us, "I mean…yeah Finn…but you and I both know that won't happen."

He seemed shock. "Why not?" He questioned the obvious reason.

I watched him, curiously. "_They_ would never let us…and how would being married change anything for us?" I asked quietly, falling back into his arms.

Finnick smirked, a trace of the young boy I first met in it. "Well, it would change a few things now wouldn't it?" He lifted an eyebrow with a sly grin.

I smiled back, biting my lip and nodding my head, as I let my raw, rope-burned hands reach up to his face. "Oh I see," I said, playing his game of tongue and cheek. I climbed over him, "Well, if that's what you wanted Mr. Odair…" I said, sitting in his lap and placing one hand on his cheek, letting the other tug at his shirt.

He chuckled, and rolled me over, holding me so my head didn't hit the ground. He rested his head on my chest, and then pulled himself up to look me in the eye. He was smiling and I pushed my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me. We were inches apart, nose to nose. "No. I want a Mrs. Odair," He said pulling away from me, while pushing my hair from my face. The breeze pulled us apart. He sat up.

"Finn…" I started, following his actions. I stared at him, worried now. We both knew it was an unrealistic dream.

"Would you marry me?" He asked, his face serious but his eyes full of hope.

I sighed with a small, sympathetic smile. "I mean of course I would but let's be realistic…" I said, letting my voice trail into the wind.

He shook his head and then grabbed my hands, forcing me to face him. "No. Let's not," He said with a bright grin. His smile was so beautiful. "Marry me, Annie Cresta," He said, crossing my wrists to mime his. He intertwined our fingers and kissed the bruises on my fingertips. "If you want to," He chuckled into my flesh, pressing his forehead to mine.

I bit my lip and then grinned, pushing him down. "Of course!" I squeaked. "Yes of course I want to." I smiled, kissing his lips, then I fell, letting my head rest against his collar bone, "But aren't you afraid the Capitol will attack us…?" I asked, tracing patterns into his shirt.

His kissed the top of my head, holding me tightly. "No. I'm not worried about the Capitol."

"Ok," I agreed. I reached back up to his lips, sealing our decision with a kiss. "Ok, then let's get married." I said, then taking the ring he had given to me almost six years ago on my left ring finger. It was official. We were engaged and soon he would be forever mine.

Finnick had a plan brewing in his mind, but never told me. It wasn't until the reaping I began to understand. "We're going back in the games!" I screamed when the announcement aired. "How is this happening?" I collapsed on the couch in my parent's old living room.

"Annie, don't worry." Finnick stood behind me, eyes still glued to the screen. The muted laughter from the television made me cringe.

I shot up, "Don't worry? Finnick we're going back to that damned arena where only one comes out! Everything ends for us then!" I said, my petite hands wrapped around his shoulders, but even shaking Finnick didn't seem to faze him.

He pulled his strong arms around me, encasing my frantic body, "No Ann, don't think like that." He told me, watching me with a warning eye.

I tried to push him away but he held me there. I glared at him, "How do you want me to think?" I asked facetiously with a clenched jaw.

Finnick became very serious with me. His jaw tightened. His eyes watched me with a new intensity. "That we'll make it." He stooped down to my level, looking me in the eye, looming over me in a protective stance. He grabbed my shoulders, "There are several other victors in Four, Ann. The odds might be in our favor this time."

I shook my head hopelessly, "The odds are never in our favor, Finn," I breathed.

And I was right. My name was called. But this time I didn't pretend to be ok. I fell apart for the world to see…again. I collapsed to my knees as my heart dropped. "No!" I screamed. "No, no, no!" Tears streamed down my face. It was over. I buried my face in my hands. The reality of surviving once was strained enough…surviving twice, that was an impossibility. I was lost, and had nothing to pine for or reach after. I felt two bodies approach me and readied myself for the Peacekeepers to take me away, but they didn't. Strong hands wrapped around my body, "Annie, Annie darling, you have to trust me." He whispered in my ear.

"I volunteer for Miss Cresta." I heard a woman cry out. Mags was the body to my left. She stood tall. My heart crumbled as Mags stood up to take my place, and as Finnick left my side. He was called too. "Finnick…" I called when he and Mags were asked to choose their mentors. Finnick ran to my side.

"Annie, I need you to mentor me." He ordered.

I had never been asked to mentor. I didn't know anything about keeping tributes alive. "Finnick, I…" I started, shaking my head. Doubt filled my mind, tormenting my every thought. I would kill him. I wouldn't know how to save him. I couldn't get him sponsors. Slowly, I started to leave Finnick and the world I knew and packed up to a place I often escaped.

"No baby, I need you. I need you to stay with me." Finnick said, shaking me, bringing me back.

Urgency filled my voice, "You have to come out of there Finn."

His sea green eyes fell pale. "I'm going to try my best, love," He told me quietly, stroking my cheek.

That wasn't good enough. I shook my head, "No. I need you to promise." My hands wrapped so tightly around his arms, I was afraid he would float away from me.

There was a softness in his touch. "I can't do that this time Ann." He said, holding my face in his hands.

"What's going on?" I asked, searching his eyes.

Finnick shook his head, his strong jaw clenched and then he sighed, "I can't tell you here."

"Where can you tell me?" I asked, pushing for details, pushing for answers.

Finnick stood over me and then pulled me into a tight embrace, "I don't know if I can tell you at all," He muttered.

I tried to push him away, "Finnick stop keeping secrets from me." But he was stronger than me.

"I'm sorry baby," He said kissing the top of my head and pressing me against him.

I tried to fight off tears. They were pointless now. But I couldn't choke back my sobbing, "I-I hate this." I cried into his shirt. The small grasp I had on hope was slipping away.

His hold on me was secure. I felt safer under his touch, and the thought of losing that destroyed me. "I know my love," He whispered. "I know." Our plans were silly. To think we'd ever be happy in the Districts…to think the Capitol would ever leave us alone was foolish. We would never truly be together. We would never be happy, because we would never be able to accept the injustice that was Panem. "Stay with me, please." He begged in a gentle whisper. A lure.

I felt the heavy weight of the ring on my finger, "Always." I would stay strong for him, even though the thought of losing him forever lingered in the back of my mind, threatening my stability.


	26. After Us

**Hey Now****:** Augustana.

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><p>Finnick sat, elbows on his knees, leaning towards me in a small huddle in the dining cart of our train. "You know who I heard was good, Katniss Everdeen."<p>

I watched the window, life passing by in blue, green, and faded browned blurs. "The girl who won last Games? With the boy?" I asked airily.

Finnick chuckled. "Yes. The two star-crossed lovers from District Twelve," He said as he carved into the table with his knife, bored of the spectacular charade that we were honoring our district in any way.

I smiled, my stare falling on him. "Star-crossed lovers…isn't that a sight."

"They have nothing on the two of you," Mags chimed in. Poor Mags was watching us with such hope, when there wasn't a thing to hope for. Her speech had gotten better than it was, as she was still recovering from last year's stroke. Guilt overwhelmed me.

"The unknown star-crossed lovers of District Four…of course," Finnick added, winking at the frail old woman.

"Annie, that's a beautiful ring on your hand." She told me, pointing towards me with her cane.

I nodded sadly, "Thank you Mags."

She smiled sweetly, empathy controlling her features. "I'm sorry you had to cancel your wedding."

Finnick shook his head, stabbing the table and leaving the knife to stand alone in its makeshift niche. "We wouldn't be the first," He sighed, "Katniss and Peeta did as well." He grabbed an apple and rolled it in his hands before taking the first bite.

"How did you know about the wedding?" I asked Mags quietly.

She grinned reminding me of my father's sly smile when he found out his daughter was love struck for Finnick Odair. "Finnick told me."

He shrugged and in between bites admitted, "I didn't think it was a secret."

A small smile played on my lips, "The engagement wasn't long enough for it to be much of one, now was it?" I watched him lovingly as he tried to occupy his hands. "Poor Katniss and Peeta," I sighed, looking to the window again.

"Are you ok, Annie?" He asked me after a long silence.

I shook my head, giggling a little to myself, "No. I'm mental. Remember?"

Mags shook her head and laughed, "Oh dear, you're no more mental than the rest of us." She said, chuckling and then grabbing Finnick's knife and cutting a slice of bread. "I'm afraid we're all mad on this train." She sighed, then returning Finn's wink. He grinned, mouthful of fruit.

I smiled at her and then pulled my legs up to my chest, "Mags, why did you volunteer?"

Our playful conversation took a heavier note. "I'm an old woman Annie. I remember when you went in…I remember how tough it was on the two of you. I remember how tough it was on you." She said, placing the knife on the table and leaning back in her chair as if a screen were playing a recap of the 70th Hunger Games.

"I could have handled it." I said, unfortunately defensively. She volunteered because I was weak. An eighty-year-old woman was stronger and more capable than I was…which I knew was probably true, but the truth of it was degrading and pathetic of me.

But Mags shook her head in protest. "I know you could have. You're strong. But I don't think Finnick could have handled you in the arena again."

Finn traced his messily cut pattern on the table with his finger, "She's right. I couldn't." He said quietly.

I stared at him, brow furrowed, lips pursed, "Right, of course." I said, unfortunately patronized like a child.

Mags watched me with honest eyes, "It's true. Look, poor boy. I'd ship him off to the Capitol every time…Mentor with him…always tying knots, always worrying." She shook her head, now showing an immense amount of concern for Finnick as he began to fidget with the ratty, old bracelet I had given him years ago.

"Were you?" I squeaked.

He looked up, sea green eyes wide and sweet, and nodded.

"So I'm your mentor?" I stammered. My nerves were taking over as Finn and Mags watched me under scrutiny.

"Looks like it." Finnick said with the famous, mischievous Odair grin. "And Mags too." She smiled at me with a calm and loving grin.

My smile wasn't as confident, "What do I do?"

"Get sponsors. You won't have to train us…we've already got that covered." I remembered how Finnick would still spear at fish swimming past when we were home and weary. He never stopped training. Sometimes I'd train with him, especially if he had angered me. Sometimes I would tie a legitimate net…but most times it reminded me too much of my parents so I would just tie knots.

Mags and Finnick exchanged some strategies when it came to building alliances, "Win over the girl on fire now." Mags chuckled. "Can you get her to trust you Odair?" She asked and a pang of jealousy hit my stomach. All I associated with Finnick, women, and trust reminded me of the women of the Capitol.

Finnick smirked, "Sure." And then he saw my face, "Not like the sponsors Annie…not like them." He said with a quick smile saved for mm when Mags wasn't looking. He didn't have to sleep with the tribute girl from Twelve…good. That was reassuring. Except for he still had to sleep with the Capitol women, didn't he?

The thought bothered me, until we reached the Capitol, then my jealousy consumed me.

He grinned at me as we got off the train, "Well, let's play our parts then, shall we?" He said, squeezing my hand and then running off. I scowled at him, as I did at my last Capitol party. I faded in and out of moments.

Finnick made them swoon. Every girl called out to him, reached out to him, begged him for his time. And for each and every one of them, he had his special Capitol smile reserved for them and the seductive purr that was wildly unfamiliar to me. I hated Capitol Finnick, but I hated Capitol Annie equally so. They dragged me along as I pretended to be without my sanity. We met up with the rest of the tributes, all familiar to me.

"Well, if it isn't sweet little Annie Cresta…I thought all the mental patients had to stay home?" A tall, and very familiar girl, close to mine and Finnick's age called out to me.

"Down Johanna," Finnick growled.

Johanna Mason strutted towards me, looking me up and down and then approached Finnick, "What's got you in such an uproar today pussycat?" She teased. "Hate when I make fun of your girlfriend? I know you do dearest, that's why I do it." She said, pushing her hands through her hair with her own quirky seduction. Envy surged through me, but I stayed calm and quiet. I was mad after all.

Finnick watched her, not nearly as intimidating as he was known to be, "You know that's not the case here…" He said sounding more hurt than angry.

Johanna scoffed, "Oh no Finnick? Is it not?" She said, circling around us. "Come on. How stupid do you think we are? We all know your story here…not that you're any safer with us," She said, softly tugging at the waves in my hair. "We know how brave little Annie stood up to the Capitol. How sweet, beautiful little Annie said no to Snow's sex trade. We all know her loss." She said, and then a new wave of seriousness washed over her. "Which I am very sorry for," She added respectably. She offered me a kind smile, for the first time since I've known her. "I admire her Finn. More than you to say the least…" She said, gently hooking her fingers under his chin.

"Because she did what you tried?" Finnick asked, although all three of us knew the answer. We all knew the story of Johanna Mason. Forced into prostitution, but tried to be admirable and fight it. But she tried to take them with brute force, so they fought back, and in a war of aggression, the one with the better weapon wins.

"And she got away…sort of," Johanna added. "I mean the last person alive she cares about is you, and killing you would be no good for business, and killing her would mean no more you and no more glimmer of hope Snow's trying to sell," She said, scrutinizing our relationship. "What a cycle," She breathed. Then she turned her attention to me, "See Annie, I didn't get away. They killed and then made me partake in some more games."

"I'm sorry for your pain Johanna." I told her with the most sincerity I could offer.

Johanna only showed a brief moment of vulnerability, "Yeah well, I should have snagged Finnick up when I had the chance…maybe they would have spared me too." She let her fingers dance across Finnick's shoulders and then she sauntered off.

We were frozen in a short state of awe, "Come on Annie." He grabbed my hand with a new urgency. Finnick led me to his prep station in silence. It didn't take long to make Finnick handsome and desirable. He, for the most part had that covered. They dressed him in a ridiculous net leaving him practically naked "Now we're both in nets." He said, watching our reflections in the mirror. I was strapped into a silly dress that was supposed to show my mentor status. Little did they know, I was more taking on the role of invisible mentor. I was supposed to still have some harsh feelings towards Finnick as far as the Capitol knew, even though Johanna made it painstakingly obvious our attempts were futile at this point.

"Well that's….flattering." I sighed, giggling at Finnick's costume, or lack thereof.

"Try not to stare too much," He said, winking at me and then going out to the Opening Ceremonies. I stayed in the apartment that night. I watched the chariots go by and then heard the speech from the President. His voice gave me chills.

When Finnick came back up to the apartment, Katniss was the first of our many subjects to address. "Did you get Katniss to trust you?" I asked him.

He shook his head, ruffling his hair trying to get rid of the glitter they had tossed at him. "No, it was hell trying to," He sighed, rolling his eyes. "She's not like other girls…not like the ones in the Capitol. In fact, she reminds me a lot of you." He said with a lazy smile. He looked me up and down and grinned again.

I frowned, "Ha, funny…"

Finnick shook his smile away, "I'm serious," He said with a slight chuckle. "How do I go about this?" He asked, running a strong hand through his hair. Mags would have offered suggestions but she went to sleep instead. It had been a long day for her.

I smirked, watching him as he paced the room, flustered that this young girl hadn't fallen at his seductive smile. "Well, it isn't difficult for you to charm anyone Finn, not even a stone cold shark like me," I said with a quiet giggle. "Just make her laugh. Don't' come off as Victor Finnick…be the Finnick from Four." I approached him, taking a close look at net costume that barely covered his chest. I straightened the small piece of fabric that ruffled over his shoulder.

He wrapped his hands around my waist, watching my fingers trace patterns into his chest. He leaned against a bookshelf, supporting me. "So don't throw a trident at her, is all I'm taking from your advice," He said chuckling.

"Just be you…the you I like," I said with a playful smile. It was odd how relaxing the Quarter Quell was compared to all the other Capitol affairs we've been involved in. It scared me almost. But those thoughts were wiped away when Finnick kissed me. They could see us…I was sure of it. I was positive Snow knew what we had done by now. Snow knew we were in love and neither of us were trying to hide it anymore. It was over now, wasn't it? Weren't we both in the Capitol ready to face death now? Isn't that why Finnick wasn't training anymore? Or why I didn't stay in Four? Because the end was near…and the end, like every contender in the Quell this year knew, was inevitable.


	27. Bruises

I was going to make this chapter longer, but I didn't like pairing it up with anything else. So this is fluff... again, but kind of important fluff that might be referenced later if my outline works out. And I'm sorry this story is so long, but the chapters are ridiculously short which throws everything off! haha but I do plan on going through the third book, so if my math is correct, which it may not be since I'm an English person, there should be about maybe ten more chapters left...so thanks for hanging in there and for reading! Enjoy!

**Bruises: **Death Cab for Cutie.

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><p>Finnick changed from his costume to boxer shorts, which were surprisingly more flattering and then walked into my room. He didn't hesitate or stop, he simply climbed into bed with me, not considering consequences or dangers or rumors. He kissed me again and again. Our kissing became rushed and soon the spaces between us were closed off. I wanted more of him, but there was a lingering question in my mind. "What do you say to them when you do this?"<p>

Finnick understood, "I try not to talk to them." He said between kisses. His hands cradled me, and then he pulled me on top of him.

I pulled my lips away from his. "But when you have to?" I asked, resting on my forearm. I was hovering over him, my hair draped over his shoulder, my eyes staring into his.

He smirked, "Annie…is now really the time?" He whispered in my ear, hooking his hand around my jaw, reaching up to kiss me on the neck.

I rolled away from him. "I just want to know." I said to the ceiling.

Finnick sat up, propping himself up on his elbow, "I tell them how nice their homes are." He said, watching me.

I mimicked his stance, resting my chin in my palm, lying on my side. "You don't even compliment them?" I asked curiously.

He shrugged and then fell back against the pillows, "Only if I have to."

"I know you flirt with them," I reached for his hand, "You have to win their hearts somehow." I said, twisting his calloused hand around in mine.

He smiled, closing his eyes and then reached out to my face with his free hand. "I am nothing with them compared to how I am with you. I would rather spend one day with you than my whole life elsewhere."

I grinned at his lovely soliloquy. "That was beautiful, but it's still in the back of my mind," I whispered, falling against pillows myself.

Finnick frowned as we both stayed there, watching the high white ceiling of my Capitol bedroom. "I tell them silly things, awful things, thoughtless things," He said, his deep voice interrupting the eerie quiet. "And then I let them return the favor. I'm a sounding board to them Ann, that's all," He said hoarsely. His right hand reached around to my left, intertwining our fingers, pressing his palm to mine.

"What would you tell me?" I let my curiosities control our conversation. Strangely, we never spoke on topics like this. We avoided them, but tonight I couldn't think of anything else.

The mattress shifting surprised me. He rolled to his side, watching me and then letting a small smile cross his lips. "How beautiful you are," He started, allowing his fingers to brush through my hair and then wrap around the back of my neck. His touch made me shiver, "How happy you make me." He inched closer, "How stupid you are for choosing some Capitol made monster." He watched me with a sullen expression, eyes windows to his swarming thoughts.

I wanted to see his smile. "Well, that's an interesting way to get my attention," I beamed, kissing him on the nose. He didn't respond. "Finnick, you're not a monster. Not to me." I told him letting my fingers run through his hair. "Even so, you're a monster, I've lost my mind…it still works out for us either way." He smiled at that, but for a short period. Then we fell back into silence. He hated this subject the most. It bothered him, my questions. But he would always answer them. "Do you stay with them long?" My whisper almost sounded foreign to me, weakness dripped from voice. It was obvious the pain his answer would cause.

But he answered right away, casually. "For some time…but once I leave I don't go back." He became more serious. "They always ask though, but I only promised one person I'd come back to them." He said, with a smile that reminded me of the night I fell in love with him.

"They like you a lot." I told him.

His eyes searched my face with a look of concern, but he had no questions to ask. "I never cared for their attention," He reassured me, then he smiled, "They like you a lot too, you know." It was a sad smile, envious even.

I scoffed, "Of course, I'm the funny little side show." I said, facing the ceiling again. I looked at my own hands, burned by ropes, bruised by punches thrown in fits of sleep. I was slowly becoming what they wanted.

Finnick chuckled, in his Capitol tone he purred, "Oh Cresta, please…your sense of humor is pathetic, you're not funny in any way." I laughed, pulling my knees to my chest and curling into a ball beside him.

I stared at him in the dark. "Really, and you think you can outdo me when it comes to being the disgrace of Panem, do you Odair?" I asked with a smirk.

He grinned and replied in the haughty voice I remember from when we were young, "I'm superior, remember?" And suddenly his smile began to fade. "A superior slave. Damn it." He breathed, rubbing his palms into his eyes.

I grabbed his hands, wrapping them in my own, "Stop it," I breathed quietly, sympathetically.

Finnick's hands balled into fists. "Annie, I hate this. I hate that I can't have you." His quiet voice was filled with anger.

I draped myself over him, "You can have me." I told him, letting my hands graze over his face.

But he squirmed out of my reach, "No. Not without their sick whispers in my head," He growled quietly, sitting up and putting his hands to his ears. "I'm a whore. A Capitol whore. Another weakling pig to add to the city of sickos, freak sideshows, and scandals!" He ranted, louder than I think he intended.

I sat up with him, "I didn't realize survival and sacrifices made someone weak." We sat, face to face, legs crossed, restless hands twisting the sheets.

Finnick shook his head, placing his head in his hands. "Don't make me the hero Ann. That's the Capitol's job, to turn an arrogant killer into a hero."

I took his hands again. "No. The Capitol turned you into an object, not a hero." I said as he looked up at me, "But Finn, you saved me on more accounts than you know." I smiled sadly, kissing the calloused hands I held captive. His bruises were worsening. Ugly blue and purple welts covered his golden arms.

He smiled, escaping my grip, "You're so pure, so innocent, so good." He said, wrapping his hands around my face.

Finnick pulled me into his chest. I could hear his heart beat. "Your heart's still here Finn," I whispered. "You can't scare me."

He chuckled lightly, "You scare me." He said softly, "Who would have thought the boy with the trident would be terrified of the girl in the nets?"

"Sometimes being trapped is more of a threat than meeting death," I muttered into his chest. The sweet smell of cologne and salt water lulled me to sleep. After that night, I never asked questions about those women again. I refused to accuse him of being a monster, and I hoped that after that night we could heal in the short amount of time we had. We didn't. In his eyes, he was still a monster. In the world's eyes, I was still crazy. And in my eyes…the bruises were getting worse. We were cheating death, and as it played, the cheat cost more than the kill itself.


	28. Who Are We Fooling

**Who Are We Fooling: **Brooke Fraser

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><p>The next day Finnick went to training and I spent my time looking for sponsors, pretending to be mad. I stayed out of sight by most of the other victors and spent my time amongst patrons. It was a painful process. Not many people will talk to a mad girl. Nevertheless, whenever I mentioned Finnick, women crowded around me, tossing money, littering and lining our funds. Men even contributed some, but I won't deny I was extra persuasive with them. I would flutter my eyelashes at them, advertising Finnick and his strength, but I knew they would rather spend time staring at me than listening to me. Back at the training center, I waited for Finnick and Mags to come back to the fourth floor.<p>

"I think the knots worked…maybe." He said, explaining his day at dinner.

I grinned, cutting into the slab of meat on my plate. "Did you correct her?" I asked, laughing at the memory of when I had been teaching him to net.

Both Finnick and Mags smiled, along with the stylists at the table. "Of course," He said with a smile and a mouthful of food. He knocked back the last of his wine, "She has to have the knowledge." He said shrugging, setting down his cutlery and dabbing his mouth with the napkin like Ursula taught us so long ago.

I smirked, raising an eyebrow, "Would she have a chance with you in the arena?"

"She'd have to." Finnick said, glancing towards Mags with a look of unease.

I didn't like the secrets kept between them, I knew there were many. "What's that mean?" I asked, setting my knife down and placing my fork at the edge of my plate.

Finnick didn't address my question, instead moved to another. "Annie, is there any way you can talk Haymitch into convincing her to ally with us?"

I didn't know what he was up to, if this was his survival tactic or a stunt for sponsors? During my games, he had treated things so differently, it was hard to tell. I had never actually seen Finnick in true survival mode, but I knew he always had a plan. "I can try…yeah. Whatever you want Finn." I followed on his request as soon as I possibly could. I discovered the best time was when they were in training and it was earlier in the morning. It ensured a better chance of District Twelve's mentor's sobriety. "Haymitch?" I approached the blond haired man with a forever scowl etched onto his face. I felt bad for the alcoholic…but he felt bad for me too.

"Yes Annie?" His tone was naturally condescending, even though I knew he was trying to muster so sort of slurred kindness.

I didn't put anything delicate with Haymitch. He had always been a straight-to-the-point type and didn't like lingering on silly details like extra words, "Finnick wants Katniss."

He smirked and stared off into the distance, nodding. "Good, she'll like that." His lips were thin, folding in as he thought more on their alliance. I felt a pang of jealously flare, "Not like that darling," He said, laughing at my reactions towards his expressions. "Katniss doesn't much care for Finn." He pushed back his stringy blond hair and then shook his head, "Don't get your feathers in a ruffle." He said with another drunken laugh.

Anger seared my insides replacing my envy. "I beg your pardon?" I asked, annoyed I was the joke of the victors. I was silly and weak to them…nothing more, anything less.

Haymitch's tone changed, but only slightly, "We all know Annie. All the old mentors at least," He said, shaking his head with a small amount of unwarranted sympathy. "We saw how you two were during your games. I'm sorry for your hardships."

It was a legitimate sadness haunting his eyes. It was difficult to ignore, but I was determined to send in my request, taken seriously as a fellow victor not a poor, mad girl. "He…he wants the girl Haymitch. Tell her." I walked away, for fear they all offer me some kind of sad song speech.

"What are you doing for the Gamemakers tomorrow?" I asked that night, beginning to take my mentoring seriously, while Finnick on the other hand was doing the opposite. I stood in front of the mirror, cleaning my face with a towel. He stood behind me, running the razor across his jaw.

He put the razor down, washing off the lingering suds of shaving cream and shrugged with a smile after dabbing his face with a clean towel. "I'll probably just strip."

"Finnick!" I said, swatting at his chest playfully.

He grinned. "You're right Ann, they'd probably like you more," He said, capturing me in his arms and leaning down to kiss me. "I know I do."

I was beaming and blushing, turning to face him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Thank you for the cheek. I've always found these brilliant little quips to be your best quality," I laughed, running my hands through his auburn hair.

He smiled, "Cheeky, stupid, and sexy…my best qualities." Finnick said, staring off into space with an arrogant smirk like he was posing for cameras. I grinned, pulling him back to reality by reaching up and kissing him on his chin, the only part of his face I could reach. "I missed you today." He said hugging me tightly.

There we were, standing in middle of my bathroom, hugging before climbing into bed. I didn't want to move though. This moment was perfect and something I wanted to lock away in my memory. It might have been the last few I would have with him. "You're going to try to win, right?" I asked quietly.

He cupped my chin in his hand, "Of course I will." He said, kissing my lips. It was a poor promise sealed with a kiss. There was a plan forming and I wouldn't know of it until I was in the middle of it.

Finnick was gaining sponsors at the drop of the hat. When his training scores were released, I had more than sixty patrons pouring money into his account. The interviews were bound to rein them in by the hundreds. "You look very handsome," I told him as I straightened his tie. He touched my face and kissed my lips. He walked out onto the stage, bantering with Caesar. "What's that in your hand Finnick?" Caesar asked.

Finn unfolded the tiny slip of paper, "Oh this?" He asked as if he had forgotten about it. "This is a small poem I wrote…" He said flashing a dazzling Capitol smile out into the crowds of screaming women.

"Oh?" Caesar said, turning to the crowd and showing off a wide grin.

Finnick was polite and lovable. "May I recite it?"

"Should he recite it?" Caesar asked the crowd and without hesitation, they cheered, "Of course!" Caesar said waving his hands in the air excitedly. A group of women screamed his name.

Finnick stood up from his chair and unfolded the slip of paper, "For my beloved," He winked, showing off a alluring grin that left the Capitol stunned. My heart leapt when he caught a glimpse of me hiding off stage along with the other obscure mentors.

"_If I'm gone for a day, _

_Keep your nerves at bay, _

_I'll come home my love._

_If I'm gone for a week _

_And your heart feels weak, _

_I'll be home my love._

_If I'm gone for a month _

_And your mind grows absent,_

_I'll find home my love._

_If I'm gone for a year _

_And your soul starts to fear, _

_Your heart be my home sweet love."_

That's when reality hit. The crowds fell at his feet. Women pined after him, some crying, some calling themselves his, some holding their hearts and some professing their love. My heart sank as he walked towards me, still waving to his many fans. "That was beautiful," I told him, pulling him close to me. I hugged him tightly. My fingers wrapped around his neck, patting down the standing strands of auburn hair.

His hands clamped to my sides, "I didn't want to say goodbye to you." He whispered in my ear. But we did have to say goodbye, didn't we? And he was ready to, whether willing or not…because he knew, as well as I did, in a matter of hours, maybe days, it would be over.

I smiled at him, tears falling down my cheeks. "You've got to go back out there," I told him quietly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. We weren't fooling anyone. He squeezed my hand and walked out to his fellow tributes. They lined up and for the first time in Hunger Game history they latched hands and stood silently in front of the crowd.

Chaos broke out. Peacekeepers ran out to the crowd. I didn't see what started the riot. Instead I was pinned to a wall by the mentor from Eight. "Finnick!" I called out. He found me, rushing me out of the way. He ushered me back to the fourth floor of the training center, hiding me from the world.

Privacy as our shield, he leaned down and kissed me. "Are you ok?" He asked.

I nodded, knowing my incessant shaking wasn't reassuring. I became overwhelmed easier as time went. Finnick knew. He picked me up, draping my legs over his arms and leading me to my room. It was our last night together. I was desperate, wanting to hold him, comfort him, but he insisted on avoiding goodbyes. "Let's keep things as normal as possible," He told me with a smile. He kissed me for the last time before the arena, and drifted into another restless slumber. I didn't sleep much that night.

I thought with age, I'd handle him leaving better…I thought eventually, it wouldn't crush me, the weight of his being gone, but each time, I was proved wrong. It felt like a dream. Finnick. Everything about us felt like a strange delusion. I was slowly losing sight of reality, and I feared more that with Finnick gone, I would lose that small piece of surreal certainty forever. That night I promised myself that no matter what, without Finnick I would stay strong. But I was only fooling myself.


	29. Dark Paradise

**Dark Paradise: **Lana Del Ray

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><p>He was back in the arena. I was ushered towards the mentor's center. My heart was racing as I watched and waited. It was only a matter of seconds now. Resources sat in front of me as we all gathered around twelve different screens. The center was large, with twelve spaced out stations for each mentoring team. Events moved fast. It was almost time. The countdown started. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. Go.<p>

He dove off his pedestal and swam towards the cornucopia. The girl beat him and got the bow, but Finnick reached the trident. She turned swiftly, sensing his presence, but he was poised for her attack. "You can swim too?" He asked, "Where did you learn that in District Twelve?"

_Finnick, what are you doing?_

"We have a big bathtub," She answered skeptically.

"You must," He said, impressed, "You like the arena?"

"Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you," She said bitterly. Little did she know the truth of her statement. It was built for Finnick, but not to give him an advantage…to remind him they still had me. To remind him of our dark little paradise back in Four. A paradise now manipulated to bring us back to the hands of the Capitol. She watched Finnick suspiciously, looking at him from angles of how she could attack. He merely grinned, "Lucky thing we're allies. Right?" She didn't trust him.

_She's going to kill you Finn. _

Her fingers lithely pulled back on the bow, but he saw it. He shifted his hands showing off a solid-gold bangle along with the old, tattered, unraveling rope still tied to his wrist. The gold bangle was so clean and new…with flames. He won over the girl on fire. She stood dumbstruck at the mouth of the cornucopia, not seeing the imminent threat like Finnick. He commanded her to move in a forceful voice and struck District Five's tribute. "Don't trust One and Two," He told her. They each took one side grabbing what they thought useful from the weapons pile and fought the oncoming tributes. Hope flooded my heart as I remembered Finnick's strength and power. When Katniss suggests leaving the water surrounded Cornucopia, they both dive off from the island, and Finn reaches out to rescue both Peeta and Mags. Telling her to stay calm, for fear of hurting her unborn child…which was news to me and apparently the rest of the world last night. She was a good partner for him, covering him whenever someone was on the attack.

The four of them were safe for now, walking through the jungle. They all looked exhausted, the heat had taken a toll on them. They were all wonderful physical specimens, but Mags, who was resting over Finnick's arm. He was truly amazing though. He asked her to look at the area surrounding the Cornucopia. She climbed the tree, horrified at the bloodied mess, horrified to find Victors could turn so quickly…but we're tributes, and we all wanted to live at the end of the game. Friendships die in that. We all, at one point, experienced that.

"What's going on down there, Katniss? Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?" I chuckled at Finnick's cheek, but I knew he understood the sadness and terror Katniss was seeing for the first time.

"No." She said sternly.

"No," He repeated back to her, smile falling, "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." He doesn't speak for awhile and then looks to Peeta, "Except maybe Peeta." And me.

The truth of Finnick's speech washed over me. He was right, but only because both Peeta and I really were fluke wins. But in his eyes, we were better than the rest of them. In his eyes, innocence and purity won over. The same seemed to ring true for Katniss as well, but Katniss wasn't innocent. She touched the edge of her bow, ready to raise it. They're both poised for an attack, until sweet Peeta steps in. I gained respect for Peeta in that moment. They moved on, and thirst overcame them. I walked away from the screens. I had to get them fresh water somehow…I looked to Finnick's funds, and sending water would have been a Godsend, but would there have been enough to fund all four of them, and still have money for any emergency like medicine? I needed Haymitch. I found him in the outside hallway of the center.

"We need to work together," I told him sternly.

The old drunk laughed, "Annie, sweetie, you better let me handle this." He said, patting me on the head.

I pushed his hand away from me, ferociously. "No Haymitch. Our tributes are allies…we work together." I growled.

The laugh left his eyes, "No sweetheart…I have direct orders to…" He began with the same violent look I had.

I cut him off, grabbing the collar of his shirt, "Listen to me Abernathy, I'm keeping him alive…you know my motives so don't think I'm not past risking it all now. He will be safe. You will help me."

Another cold smile reached his lips as he pushed away my petite figure, "What makes you so sure I'm gonna do anything you ask me to darling?" He asked with another harsh laugh.

Anger seized me, provoking me. I watched him with a violent glare, "Because I went crazy," I told him quietly, "And I'm not above killing anymore."

Haymitch's blue stare was hard and mocking, until the seriousness of our situation changed his perspective. "Alright doll…we can arrange something."

For the rest of the afternoon we studied the arena. "We can't just keep sending them water…there has to be a better way to help them," I told him as we studied the few tips the Gamemakers gave us.

What most people never knew was that mentors were just as a part of the games as tributes. In the small booklet we found a map, there were no rivers or streams. So where was the water? "In my year the only source of water was at the cornucopia and rainwater." He said, as we thought through all the possibilities of the game.

I shook my head, "There wasn't any food at the cornucopia…so there must be another source." The Gamemakers were looking for a show after all.

Haymitch took a swig from his bottle watching our resources grimly, "Or they're all supposed to die." He chuckled.

I frowned, "Let's not be so cynical."

And that's when he grew very quiet, zoning in on one detail on the screen in front of us. "Do you see that?" He asked, now squinting at the screen.

"What?" I asked, following his line of sight.

He pointed, "That little animal Katniss is staring at." She was staring, ready to attack the tiny little tree animal.

"It's drinking," I sighed, noticing its teeth sunk into the bark and the little gulping noises it made.

Haymitch smiled, "Right…" He said, excitedly, or what I could assume was excitement from him. "From the trees. The trees…that's the water source!" He said, slamming his bottle down and flipping through our funds and books. "They need a spile."

"What's that?" I asked quietly, trying to stay out of his way.

"Something that'll save them," He said, and he was right. Katniss figured it out. Things were calming down for our four tributes. They were well fed and hydrated. They made a small makeshift shelter. Night was falling on them, and the Capitol. "Rest Finn," I breathe the command from the small couch placed in my corner of the center. I shut my eyes, but knew sleep wouldn't find me tonight. I watched Finnick, a tired body slouching in a dark jungle. A clock seems to strike and a new attentiveness washed over him. He looks to see Katniss awake. She tells him to sleep and he lies down. "Goodnight Finnick," I whispered, hoping to find some peace tonight. The perfect specimen of Finnick Odair was worn, and the night wasn't over. Minutes later, a mist is approaching them through the trees.

"Haymitch, what is that?" I asked when he passed by. He stared at the screen.

He shook his head, peering at the screen. "I don't know, but whatever it is…it can't be good." Katniss shot up screaming. _"Run! Run!" _She shouted. Finnick bolted up, trident in hand and ready. They all fumbled. Katniss and Finnick were the fastest to escape the fog, but Mags and Peeta were struggling against the environment. She pulls Peeta and Finnick scoops up Mags, but as seconds pass and the fog starts embracing them, their bodies stop functioning. Finnick and Katniss haul on, Finn now picking up both Peeta and Mags. He stumbled.

"Get out of there Finn…" I breathed, only inches from the screen, watching him struggle to hold on to both Mags and Peeta. He gives Mags to Katniss, who is a tiny creature. She stumbles more, unable to hold her. She cries for help but Mags shakes her head. The beautiful old woman leaps from Katniss' back and kisses Finnick. My heart aches as I see the plan working out. She walks straight into the fog and a cannon sounds.

Mags was dead.

Helplessness only thickened the net around me. I couldn't save her and I wouldn't be able to save him.


	30. Dead Hearts

I'm not really sure what's up with me lately, but for some reason I've been switching back and forth between tenses and I'm super sorry. I tried to correct my mistakes in this one, but if I've overlooked them, please just bear with me. My editing skills are not what they used to be. :) But past that, I hope you all enjoy!

**Dead Hearts: **Stars.

* * *

><p>I wanted to die. Mags was gone. Mags…the last of my family, dead. My heart mourned for her. And although I wanted to stop and leave the room, I couldn't afford that luxury. I had to see Finnick. He had to be safe. He was the last of my hopes to which my heart was clinging.<p>

The fog had impacted all of them, and there was no way I could have foreseen that. "Finnick get up," I whispered, eyes glued to the screen. He was the only one not revived. Katniss and Peeta pulled him into the ocean and his wounds began to heal. "Get up." Tears pricked at my eyes. An hour after pouring salt water over his paralyzed body, Finnick started to move only slightly. When they submersed him into the water, color poured into him. He dove into the sea and became the Finnick I remember back in Four.

A brisk moment of peace flooded my emotions, until I remembered beautiful Mags. When all seemed calm, I stepped out. The other mentors ignored my moment of weakness, attributing it to my madness. But I wasn't the only one to weep for a loved one in the arena.

I walked back to my screens, only to watch Finnick fight off mutant monkeys. My hands tremble as danger after danger attacked my love, and there's nothing to keep me occupied except for watching. Finnick was strong and I forced myself to remember that. He fought them off, with the help of Peeta, Katniss, and the morphling from Six. I didn't allow myself to think he was safe. Scabs covered his body from the fog and he began to scratch incessantly. _He needs medicine. _I worked fervently on obtaining what he needed. I would look up from my papers every once in awhile but only to note how tired Finnick was. I didn't watch any other tribute except for him. Even though I could clearly see Gloss and Cashmere trouncing through the jungle, annoyed by the heat and gulping down the water provided by their mentors. Katniss went to take watch while they slept, but Finnick insisted otherwise. "_Sleep my love._" I thought but I knew where his mind was. Peeta and Katniss slept and Finn sat on the beach, hands trembling like mine.

He walked the beach looking for blades of grass. He began weaving. He spent the night weeping silently, letting his hands work meticulously. He stopped for only a moment as dawn was approaching. I watched him, worried about his thoughts. He buried his face in his hands, and whispered very softly, "Annie." It was so soft, I almost thought it was the wind. My lips quivered as I kept myself from reaching out to the screen in front of me. I had my priorities. _Get him medicine and get him out of there. _ I looked to the girl. Katniss has been scratching all night…maybe it was Finnick's alliance with her, or knowing about her wedding and pregnancy, but for some reason, I felt powerfully inclined to help her. I added to my order of medicine and then called for the parachute to be sent in.

She got up from her sleep and approached Finn. "You know, if you scratch you'll bring on infection," Finnick told her with a small smile through red eyes.

Katniss, not incredibly pleased with Finnick's comment, grimaces, "That's what I've heard." She walked to the sea and washed the blood off, now crying out in pain. "Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin," She growls, stomping back on the beach.

I smiled a little as the parachute dropped in. She tried to scowl, but remembered Haymitch. They're a lot alike, I decide as I watched her. Haymitch walked by my station.

"You didn't have to do that, you know?" He said, taking a swig from the wine bottle.

I nodded, folding and unfolding a slip of paper at my station, "I know, but they're an alliance…so what I send him, she gets too." I smiled slightly and Haymitch returned my grin but only for a short moment.

"Well, thank you Annie," He said, returning to his gruff exterior. He didn't say anything else, and he didn't have to.

I went back to watching them. Finnick was becoming more himself, scaring Peeta when waking him, laughing for the first time in awhile. It made me miss him more. I can see Katniss' disdain and mistrust for Finnick leave and by the time they quit laughing another parachute floats in. A loaf of bread from District Four.

I walked by his station smiling with surprise. "You're not the only one with a heart, doll," Haymitch smiled, winking at me.

"Bread from Four?" I asked quietly.

"For Mags and Finnick," He said, straight-faced. He tipped his head towards me, giving me a short nod.

A new appreciation for the drunk grew. His respect for Mags won over my affections. "Thank you Haymitch…really."

He shrugged, "It's out of character for me, I know."

"I like it." I smiled warmly. It was the first bit of kindness I didn't have to force from him or anyone else. For whatever reason he wanted Katniss and Finn to be allies and he wanted to protect Finn…I didn't question it.

He shook his head, taking another sip from bottle and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "Don't get used to it darling." He said, with the usual condescending tone.

I didn't speak on it anymore and instead went back to my station, only to be surprised as red figures approached Finnick, Katniss, and Peeta.

"What is that?" I whispered, staring at the three red monsters. My skin began to crawl as I slowly recognized the faces of the monsters. They weren't monsters, but people. People drenched in blood.

"Johanna!" Finnick's face lite up and he ran towards the red figures. A pang of jealously shocked through me. Johanna ran to Finnick and then began to speak quickly to him. He listened to her attentively and then expressed his apologies when he heard of her District partner's death. But Johanna, like in most cases didn't let her emotions best her. I tuned out of the conversations until a violent hiss played over the speakers. Johanna struck Katniss, but Finnick intercepted the hurl of insults. Johanna shrieked terrible things at the girl, but Finnick repeatedly dunked her underwater until she calmed down.

My sight followed Finnick and Johanna instead of the few on the beach. "Don't kill her," He told her, laughing as she washed her face in the salt water.

Johanna frowned, the salt rubbing her skin raw. "She should be more grateful," She spat.

Finnick shook his head sympathetically, "Well…she didn't know…" He said sternly.

Johanna fell back on the beach, "This just…" She started, and then for the first time, I saw a glimpse of weakness from Johanna Mason. Her eyes looked desperate for a brief second, and then she shook away her sadness, burying her face in her hands, hiding from her audience.

"I know," Finnick said calmly.

She looked up to him, regaining her brute personality. "How have you been holding up?" She asked with an unintentional sneer.

Finn smirked a little, shaking his head, "Clean up Johanna."

"Worried about Annie?" She asked, with what might have been actual curiosity but came about tauntingly.

Finnick's playful smirk turned to a watchful glare, "Just clean up Johanna." He said with little patience.

He stretched out on the beach and she walked into the ocean, stripping and cleaning. He simply lay on his back and watched the artificial sun. "Have you cooled down yet?" He called out.

She stomped back to the beach, clothed again, "Yeah, yeah, back to Nuts and Volts." She said dragging herself, unenthusiastically, back to the beach where Katniss, Peeta, and the District Three tributes were.

They met back up. Johanna and the rest of them began to eat asking my original four about their past day. Finnick sighed, telling a detached, vague version of the troubles they'd run in to. But he never mentioned Mags. When he slept, I slept.

I didn't open my eyes again until I found them fighting with the brother and sister Careers. Waking to a fighting Finnick frightened me. Katniss shot an arrow into Gloss' temple, Johanna drove her ax blade into Cashmere's chest, and Finnick knocked away the spear Brutus threw at Peeta, taking Enobaria's knife in his thigh. A gasp rips through my throat. The fighting stopped when the island whirled around, leaving them all confused. They were confused, but safe. Finnick stripped from his undershirt and tied it around his wound. For now, it was calm, but my heart was still racing.

I ran out to the hallway of the center, trying to catch my breath. I couldn't do anything. There was nothing to contribute. It was a matter of time and watching him survive. I walked back in, settling myself in front of my station one more time. I watched the screens. It was quiet at my station. And there it was, a scream and Katniss chasing the voice through the forest. "Prim!" She screamed. She ran through the jungle, only to collapse to the ground.

"Katniss?" Finnick asks, crashing into the clearing.

"It's okay. I'm okay…I thought I heard my sister but-" She's cut off by another scream, but this one I recognize. Because it's mine. The color flushed from his face. His pupils dilated in fear. He ran mindlessly through the trees. My scream sounds again.

"Annie!" He screamed. My heart sank and tears fell as I watched them torture him. "Annie!" He screamed over and over.

"Finn I'm here! I'm here!" I whispered horrified, forehead pressed to the screen. "Oh my Finnick," I breathed as he held the pierced jabberjay in his hands.

"It's all right, Finnick." She told him. "It's just a jabberjay. They're playing tricks on us." She said, trying to reassure him. "It's not real. It's not your…Annie."

Finnick looked despaired. "No, it's not Annie. But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?" He asked frantically. And I knew what he thought. He thought what I would have assumed. His paranoia that the Capitol had taken me captive was more of a possibility with each moment of him in the arena. The birds were still crying out. Finnick and Katniss were desperate to escape, but couldn't. They curled up on the ground, pressed against the barrier. Katniss, wide-eyed and looking frail, placed her hand against the barrier with Peeta on the opposite side, holding up her sanity. And Finnick just sat, staring at the ground, pained with each shriek of mine that flew into the air.

I desperately wanted to be beside him, but to him, I was another dead heart shrieking for help. To him, I was a dying girl, fighting against the politician's brute hand and my own sanity. A mad girl and a breaking heart. To me, he was a broken man, losing a battle with a poisoned mind. A man so desperate to protect his hope. Together we were star-crossed lovers separated by the Capitol's games. The lovers of District Four, Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta, seemed so far away. They were kids that I knew once upon a time, but they couldn't have their happily ever after. I couldn't save him. I couldn't save me. I could only watch us survive...if we did. And that would have to be enough for now.


	31. The Moment I Said It

Hey guys! Sorry for the kind of slack updating. School is almost over for me, so you can imagine the work piling up! Yikes! But thanks for being so patient with me and for reading and reviewing! I definitely appreciate your feedback! (And also thanks for the tumblr messages :) Those brighten my day like you wouldn't believe) So anyways, enough about me, on to the real star-crossed lovers of the Hunger Games. Happy Reading!

**The Moment I Said It:** Imogen Heap.

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><p>Numb. That's how I felt. It was an empty feeling, numbness. Those screams of mine sounding triggered it. My mind was collapsing in on itself. They were torturing him. I couldn't save him. I couldn't reach out to him. I couldn't hold him.<p>

I didn't know what to do. I was stunned. I was losing it. The more, the longer, he stayed in that arena, the more I began to fall apart. Each day was a hardship. Each day was a challenge to get up and move on and fight for him, and slowly but surely, I lost the battle.

He grasped at the jungle floor, letting his nails dig into the dirt and I, I sat idly by, watching because it was all I could do. Panic set in, but I was silent, paralyzed by the entrapments of my mind. _Come back Annie. _ I could hear Finnick's voice calling for me. But he wasn't there. He wasn't real. I had to escape my thoughts, but guilt consumed me. It was my fault he was suffering.

Was there anything I could have done to save us from this? If I had ended it years ago maybe…If I had let him go the first time he left? He'd be safe? My parents would be alive? He would be ok. If I had stopped loving him back then, they wouldn't torture us now. But then sense found its ways through the ramblings of my mind.

They wouldn't have tortured us. They would have killed us.

Events were whirring around in my mind, but I was coming to. "Annie." A voice sounded in my ear as memories were slowing. "Annie!" The voice sounded more urgent, pulling me from the depths of my thoughts.

"Yes," I answered quietly, eyes focused on the screen.

Haymitch was staring at me, bright eyes piercing blue with anxiety. "Annie! Come with me!" He grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me out into the hallway, looking around nervously.

"Haymitch, what's wrong?" I asked loudly, trying to break free from his grip.

He put his finger to his lips. He hissed. "You have to go," He said in hushed tones, "You have to get out of here."

"Why?" I whispered with the same urgency. Finnick was alright, wasn't he? I hadn't offended the Capitol, had I? Did I dream the jabberjays? Was I dreaming this?

Haymitch wrapped his hands around my bony shoulders, strongly gripping my body, "Annie, you've got to get back to Four. You're not safe here." He told me in a calm, even voice, but there were undertones of terror.

I wrapped my petite hands around his wrists, "What's going on Haymitch?" I asked, staring into the blue eyes that were now full of fear.

He shook his head, "The Games will be ending soon…that's what's wrong."

I frowned, trying to push him away from me. "I'm not leaving." He didn't budge, even against my clawing at his hands.

I soon became very aware of the seriousness of my situation. "Annie, Finnick needs you home." It wasn't Haymitch's growling that brought me to that point though, it was Finnick. I saw him on the screen, sleeping and dreaming, caught in nightmares. He thought I was trapped. He was without peace of mind, without hope. I had to go back for him. But I had to stay and keep him safe didn't I? I owned him that.

"Finnick needs me here…" My voice strained with uncertainty, "You're just trying to save your tribute Haymitch." I dismissed, trying to convey the same intensity.

But another wave of panic set in, "No Annie! I have direct orders from Finnick Odair himself…he protects Katniss if I protect you," He admitted. But when his plea went past selfish explanations and reasoning, I began to understand. "You've got to get home! They're coming for you!" He barked, but more out of fear than from his usual harsh temperament. Then he whispered, "You have to keep playing mad."

"Playing mad?" I breathed, "You know?"

Haymitch nodded, "Annie they're going to try to use you against us. You have to go into hiding."

I shook my head, "I don't understand Haymitch."

"I just need you to trust me!" He told me, pushing a crumpled boarding pass for the next train to Four in my hand. I nodded, without questioning. There was a plan. Finnick always had a plan.

I flung myself around his neck, hugging him tightly, "Keep him safe." I whispered to the old drunk.

He patted me on the head, "You stay safe, kiddo." He smiled slightly then held up his left hand with a three-finger salute, a token of admiration from Haymitch Abernathy.

It was less than a day of being home. I didn't even have time to check on the Games, never mind crawl into hiding, and there was a knock at my door at my house in the Victor's Village. "Annie Cresta," The man in the white suit asked.

"Sir?" I asked the Peacekeeper.

He stepped past me, "You've been called to the Capitol." He said, grabbing my wrist.

I pulled my arm away from him, "I just got home," I snapped. But he pulled my arm again, dragging me from my home, "Won't you tell me what this is regarding?" I pleaded helplessly.

He ushered me from the house and pressed my arms behind me. "The treason of Finnick Odair and Magdalene Heap."

"What?" I asked, trying to fight him off, trying to face him.

The Peacekeeper kept his firm hold on me. "You are now in custody of the Capitol, called in under crimes of high treason." He said, easily combating my kicking and screaming.

"What?" I yelped, "What are you…? I haven't…!" I shrieked in protest, trying to free myself from his grasp. He had others come and surround me, locking their arms around me. "Help! Let me go! Help me!" I screamed.

A familiar voice quieted me. "Annie?" She yelled, trying to reach for me, but she was bound by their arms and cuffs as well.

"Mrs. Odair!" I screeched, stopping my pace to watch her.

They hauled her away from me, taking her to the rocks near the coast. "Don't tell them anything!" She told me. "Whatever happens!" She shrieked for them to let me go. She tried to fight them off but they dragged her towards the bloodstained rocks. I didn't see Mr. Odair or Kane. I tried to reach out to Finnick's mother, but they held me back, their grips tightening around me. She fought them, still screaming after me. "Don't say a word!" She yelled. And with a final bloodcurdling scream, she was thrown to the rocks, killed on impact, washed away by the harsh waves below.

"No!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "No!" I fought harder. I forced my weight against them. I couldn't fight them. They were too strong for me. "Let me go! Save her!" I shouted. "Save her!"

I knew it was too late, but everything seemed to disconnect. My mind registered in fractures. I didn't understand. The Odairs were dead following the Crestas in the Capitol's blood spill. Nothing made sense. What did the Capitol want from me? What did they think I was hiding? What was Finnick hiding?

My lips froze and my body paralyzed. My mind was in the ultimate defense. Slowly but surely, I began to shut down. Dreams and reality were colliding, intertwining. I was numb. I didn't know what to think, what to feel. I was scared, but mostly numb. Dreams and reality started mixing and none of it made sense. I could have sworn my parents were still alive. I could have sworn I would wake up soon and see my mother in the kitchen, baking and getting ready for a new day at the shop. I would see her smile and she would tell me it was ok, things would be alright, because it was just a nightmare. I could have sworn I would see my father again, out by the nets. I would listen to one of his stories as we'd watch boats of lonely fishermen pass. I could have sworn the Odairs were right next door, laughing, living, boisterous like their youngest son. I could see Kane preparing to go on the boats. But I could have sworn Finnick was ok. I could have sworn he was safe, at home in District Four, beneath a cotton duvet, under white sheets waking up for a new day. I could have sworn he was by the shore tying knots. I could have sworn he was by a fire on our private island, waiting for me. Safe.

But he wasn't. He was trapped in an arena. Reality was slowly leaving me. Things stopped making sense for me and I fought for my sanity, but I slowly lost the battle.

I was in the Capitol.

"What's your name?" A loud voice asked me.

Bright lights surrounded me. I was in a white room. There was a room of people watching me from beyond.

"What's your name?" The voice asked again.

The harsh lights caught me, dumbstruck, blinking slowly. "Annie," I mumbled. "Annie Cresta." My words were slurred. I felt hollow. Moments passed like pictures, frame by frame. I could almost hear the shuttering as each frame developed.

"Who are you?" The voice asked me.

I stared at the wall in front of me. Blank. My mind felt blank. I couldn't remember simple events like how I got to that specific room. I couldn't remember the days before this moment. I could only remember one day in particular. "I am the victor of the 70th Hunger Games." I announced, remembering the crown as President Snow placed in on my head.

"Who do you love?" The voice echoed throughout the white room. The floor was smooth.

I shook my head. There were no recollections, "No one." I answered.

"Who do you love?" The voice boomed again.

I shook my head. There was a boy. His face was unknown, a blur if you will. His voice was a muffled noise. But I knew him. He died years ago. When we were in the games. "He's dead," I told the room behind the one-way glass to the right.

"Who do you love?"

My mind warped as I thought of the sentence, extracting each word. I love. Whom? The boy with the blurred face…but another boy came to mind. He was tall. Who was he? I knew him once upon a time. I tried recalling his name…but all I could associate with the handsome boy in my mind was a woman's scream and the feeling of loss. "He died. He died. He's dead. Free." I smirked, only knowing that he must have been gone. There surely wasn't any significance to him. He was dead. And that was freedom? Or it was once in a song I used to know. I knew that boy. Wasn't he dead? Did I love him? Or was it the nameless, faceless boy? I was losing him either way.

"How did he die?" The voice asked. I couldn't remember the boy. I couldn't remember the question.

Where was I? Did I get here by train? Who was I? "Because of me." My lips answered automatically.


	32. Childlike

I hope a lot of your questions will be answered in this chapter. This might be the last chapter in Annie's perspective for a few chapters, but I haven't decided yet. So that's just a heads up in case it does change...but I would like to keep it in her point-of-view because I think it would be more of a challenge and it wouldn't be as long. But like I said, I haven't decided yet. So, we'll see. Anyways, feedback is appreciated. Hope you enjoy! Happy Reading! :)

**Lover is Childlike:** the Low Anthem

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><p>My reflection was odd. Was it me? The girl with the green eyes, the girl with the dark flowing hair, was she me? Yes. She looked familiar. I touched her face, it was mine. "Your name is Annie Cresta." They told me. "You knew Finnick Odair."<p>

I shook my head, watching the eyes of the girl. There was a truth hidden in them. My mind was in a fog. Words hugged my thoughts, interlacing with stories I had forgotten. "Mermaid-like," I breathed. "Awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes." I could hear my voice, raspy and quiet. I could hear my words, silly, nonsensical, but I couldn't stop them. "As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and indued unto that element…" I told them playing with the mysterious ring on my left hand. My hands trembled, reaching my lips. The shuttering noise was back. I covered my ears, hoping the frames would move slowly. I hoped the frames wouldn't pass me by. I played with the loose ends of my hair. Flowers, that's what they would put in my hair. Flowers, as I danced near the sea or a lonely brook.

The room of people stood just beyond me, one of theirs circled me, engulfing me in a tide of questions or accusations…I couldn't understand it. "You knew Finnick Odair. You feigned madness. You lied to the Capitol." He said, anger inching into his loud voice.

My fingers grazed my lips. Talking, always talking. "On this decree, they are all by nature equally free and independent…" I whispered, my voice ringing clearly though. I couldn't stop. The words spilled from my mouth, only answering in riddles. _Come back Annie!_ I commanded myself to focus. To speak. To do anything to save myself, but all I could do was stare. All I could do was tremble and speak nonsense. _For God's Sake speak! Speak Annie! Tell them you didn't know! Save yourself! Save Finnick! …_Who's Finnick?

"You knew of the rebellion?" He interrupted, frustrated and now standing in front of me, between us, between me and the girl in the mirror.

I continued, like a mindless songbird. "Free to life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness." My voice shook and my heart beat in strange palpitations. The words of an old constitution danced upon my lips without command. "I read that somewhere," I muttered. "Or did I?" _Snap out of it Annie. Come back! _

The man shook me furiously. "Did you know of the rebellion?" He barked. "This isn't a game Miss Cresta." He said with more composure.

I shook my head gulping, now rocking back and forth. I couldn't stop. I couldn't. "No. This is thy sheath." My fingers danced lithely on my lap as I muttered on, "Sweet flower…nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep." Tears pricked at my eyes as I began crying.

"What do you know?" The man asked, he looked like a misshapen figure from a past I once knew.

He edged in closer and I remembered the face that my heart naturally, desperately missed. The handsome boy with the golden skin, the bronze hair, and the beautiful smile, he was fresh in my mind. "That death's unnatural that kills for loving…Some bloody passion shakes your very frame," I croaked through my tears.

The frustrated man turned to the glass pane that separated me from the room of people. "I'm sorry sir, she won't speak. She only talks in the form of nonsense." He snapped, shaking in fear.

A deep cold voice rang out, "Remind her then." An older man walked in the room, staring at me with a small smirk on his red lips.

_Remind me? _A picture of a handsome boy standing on a stage waving, reciting a poem played. It was the most beautiful poem I'd ever heard. "Do you know who he's talking to Annie?" The older man asked me. His hair was white as snow. His lips swollen, his cheeks were sullen; his eyes were dark, like a serpent. I shook my head. "You my dear." The old man smiled. I could smell the rose on his lapel. The scent was strong and sweet, with a tint of bitter rust. "Such a pity, such a beautiful girl…mad, you poor dear," He said, touching my face. His thumb pulled at my cheeks, and eyes searched mine ravenously. He slapped my cheek softly with the tips of his fingers, "Do you remember Finnick Odair?" He asked.

I didn't answer for a while. He paced around me and watched me. The boy came to mind. We met under waves, I could see his smiling face, grinning at me. "Yes." I breathed.

"What did he tell you?" The President asked. My recollections were hazy. Did he tell me anything? Did he tell me everything? No. Finnick had secrets. That's all.

"He told me nothing." I said softly, fidgeting in my seat. I couldn't stay still. My hands reached for something, but found only air. _"Don't leave me." _I could hear his voice, but I couldn't remember my days with him. I could only piece some memories together, but even those seemed diluted, delusional.

The President grinned. It was unsettling, the menace in his eyes. "No, Annie…darling, please try and be cooperative." He said, pacing around me again.

"He told me nothing," I said again, more certain this time.

He laughed coldly, "Now that won't do Annie." He frowned, with a sinister glare. "Do you remember Finnick Odair?" He asked again, this time anger was rising in his voice.

I nodded. I did. I remembered him. But I didn't remember his importance. He mentored me in the games, that was it. Right? "Yes." I nodded.

"You loved him very much, didn't you?" I thought back, letting my fingers tap nervously at the bottom of the chair.

I gulped, "The boy I loved is dead." I said with certainty, even though I couldn't remember. "Finnick mentored me in the Games." There was the faceless boy from my games, then the handsome one that I knew to be Finnick.

The President smiled, "No. He's very much alive…because you never loved the boy from your games. You loved Finnick, and he loved you." He said in my ear, sweeping his hand across my throat. "Must I remind you?"

"Yes," I whispered, my voice was broken. The President ordered them to play a reel. There I was, wrapped in his arms. They had several clips of us, private ones. I loved him. It was obvious. There was a man back in District Four named Finnick Odair and I loved him. I loved him. I still love him. _Come back Annie! Tell them! Tell them you don't know. Save yourself! Save Finnick! _

"Where is Finnick?" President Snow asked.

"I don't know," I answered quietly, honestly. I wasn't going to give in. I had to stay out of the dark. I had to think of a way to get out, to escape. I couldn't let the attacks consume me.

Snow looked dissatisfied, "No Annie…tell us, where is Finnick?"

"I don't know." I repeated, now very aware.

"Were you a part in the rebel resistance?" Snow asked, very serious.

I shook my head, "I don't know what that is."

"No?" He asked, smiling slyly. He touched my cheek, wrapping my hair between his fingers.

_Don't leave Finnick. _I told myself. _Don't be consumed. _"No," I breathed.

Snow grabbed my hair, now very angry. "Let me show you what happens to rebels," He said, slapping my face, this time hard enough to knock me from the chair. He ordered the screens to change from the images of Finnick and me to executions within the districts. Body after body, man, woman, child, were dismembered and tossed aside for the camera and the entire world to see.

Horror paralyzed me. "No! Stop! Please," I begged as blood splattered across the screen and I cowered in the corner of the white room.

Snow laughed, "Oh darling, I can't even begin to describe to you what will happen to your dear Finnick if we find him." He sneered, picking me up by the wrist, crushing my jaw in his hand.

"No! Don't hurt him!" I gasped in his grip.

"Where's Finnick?" He asked with less patience.

I clawed, scratching at his hand. My feet were lifted off the ground. "I don't know! I don't know! Don't hurt him! Hurt me! Kill me!" I begged. I had to save him because I loved him. The simplicity of our love I remembered, only some of the days, only half of the moments, only that I had once loved him unconditionally.

Snow shrugged, giving me a half-hearted sneer of a smile. He was desperate. "That would be too simple. Do you know what happened to your mother?" Cold snaked into my body as I remembered the day I tried so hard to forget.

"N-no," I stammered, the letter appearing in my mind. It's funny what your mind remembers and then forgets. It's funny how the mind works. Hopelessness began to creep upon me. _Fight this. _I commanded. But I was weak.

"What about Finnick's mother?" Snow asked.

"They killed her." I answered remembering the bloodstained rocks and purple water. The ocean was treacherous that day.

Snow nodded, walking me back to the chair. "Yes my dear, I killed her." He said, sitting me down, placing my hands in my lap, as he would prop up a puppet.

"W-why?"

He shook his head and then adjusted my chin, pushing my hair from my face, like I was a wilting rose. "Because killing you would be too easy. Killing you means one of two things for the Capitol. It either fuels Finnick's fire against us…which I think we can all agree isn't very good. Or he dies with you, which is my preferred option of the two…but not a good one still. We need Finnick to keep the members of the Capitol happy, entertained if you will." He said, his official manner coming back as he began to develop his composure. "Without you he won't perform now will he?"

"But his family…?" I whimpered. I could feel it, the madness, plague me. _Fight. _I ordered, but my authority was weak.

"…Will act as punishment for his crimes, like yours…he doesn't deserve death." Snow said, staring at the mirrored wall that separated us from the room of people. "As long as the two of you are in my grasps, you will never die. You will live and you will play nice, like all the other victors." He promised, turning back to me. Fear was swirling in my mind. "Now, darling, where's Finnick?" The words seemed to leave me again. The attack was stronger this time. My true voice was trapped under heaps of nets and secrets. My hopes were devoured by the lions Snow created. I couldn't see him anymore. I couldn't see Finnick. He was lost to my mind. And I was lost from him.

My mind went blank. My eyes stared at the girl in the reflection. She wasn't I and I wasn't she. "I don't know. I never knew a Finnick." The girl answered.

The old man frowned. "Come on Annie…let's not play dumb today." The scent of roses was on his breath. His lips were deep red, crimson.

I shook my head. "I don't know a Finnick sir." Words that weren't mine filled my mouth, slaying my tongue. "He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone." I recited absentmindedly. _Stop. _I told myself, but the command came like a whisper.

The old man ran his hand through my hair, "Such a pity."

I could feel my heart breaking, but I didn't understand the cause. My hands were unoccupied. I reached out, but for nothing. I cried, my lips quivering as I buried my face in my hands. "Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke…Fell in the weeping brook," I said, sobbing into my palms.

The old man's cold glare weighed on me. The fury and power of his eyes pressed against my ribs. I couldn't breathe. Panic pierced me. "Take her away." He said to the Peacekeepers.

"No! No!" I screamed. They tossed me into a new room, a much darker, colder one. I curled up into a ball, pressing my knees into my chest. "Oh my love, trapped in this cage, please set me free, my dear…" I muttered the old lines, not remembering their meaning. "Please…Please…Please…" I repeated, tears streaming down my face.

"Annie?" A familiar voice rang out as I cowered in the cold cell. "Annie is that you?"

"I don't know," I whispered, my cheek pushed against the stone floor.

"Annie, it's me…Johanna." The voice said desperately. Pictures were starting to form that seemed more clear, but they became hazy within seconds.

"Finnick?" I asked for the boy they tortured me over.

The woman's voice was distressed but in a way, comforting, "He's safe Annie…"

"Am I?" I asked her quietly.

"I don't know." We sat in silence for what seemed like days. I rarely slept. Some days were better than others. Some days I screamed for Finnick and his safety. Most days I fell into a deep depression. I couldn't leave it. I couldn't fight it. I could only speak nonsense, unable to say anything else. I couldn't escape. I was confined, by the Capitol and the walls of my own mind.


	33. Falling

So, Mockingjay is way more awesome than I remember, and covering it may take more chapters than I had actually intended. In order to keep things detailed but not painstakingly drawn out, I'm going to mix point of views, tastefully. So, we'll see how this goes. Happy Reading and enjoy! :)

_Poem:_ "A Dream Within A Dream." Edgar Allan Poe

**Falling: **the Civil Wars.

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><p>"…<em>rebel leader." <em>They talked in whispers around my bed.

"_He can't handle that."_ A man objected.

The woman insisted. _"Of course he can, and he will." _

Remnants of a conversation, loose ends of ideas always floated around here. I kept my eyes closed. The hospital wing was always full of visitors and people waiting to see me, waiting to give me orders. "Finnick?" They called, a cold, rough hand nudging me. "Finnick?"

I peered through one eye and decided it was time to wake up, "What?" I barked. My voice was hoarse from the games still.

Coin glared at me. "We need you to cooperate." Alma Coin, a stern older woman, president of District Thirteen. Something about her was off. She didn't think I understood. "We need you to cooperate." I glared back at her, still silent. "Finnick," She repeated, "We need you to cooperate." My eyes whirred around as I studied the room; my stare was fixated on the rope beside me. They had cut the rope bracelet from my wrist to replace it with a plastic hospital band that second as a tracking device. I hated the attendants. I fought them until the sedatives kicked in. I broke one's hand. That was the one that took the old rope bracelet from me. They thought I was crazy and going mad like the poor girl that was supposed to be home in District Four waiting for me. But I knew Snow better than all of Thirteen…she wasn't in Four. She was in a much worse place.

I let them think I'd gone crazy. Nothing mattered. They wouldn't let me go home to her. They wouldn't let me try to find her. They wouldn't let me save her. I always thought about her. It was constant. My thoughts revolved around her. I would see her beautiful green eyes in my sleep. I would hear her sweet laugh in the ward. Any girl with long flowing brown hair, I would search, but find their beauty never compared. She was gone, and I wasn't sure if she was ever coming back.

I heard word of my parents.

They kept me sedated for two weeks before I stopped threatening and resisting my help. It was my punishment for risking everything for a damned hole-filled plot against a reigning government. I was a fool. A fool thinking I could save my family from injustice and thinking I could save her… They were all gone. I thought of her because she was the last I had. She was it. She was the only person who loved me always. I waited for her, because she waited for me. But I didn't want to wait for her! I wanted to save her! "Annie." I muttered. The faces of the dead ran through my mind. Thomas was the first. I missed him and loathed him. He did something I couldn't. He risked it all but saved her life, and I-I end up safe and she's at their hand. Then my parents and brother. Innocent. Innocent blood spilled like the Crestas. This felt so close to hell, and each moment without her made that more evident. Annie. My Annie, trapped on a hook to be my bait. My sweet, strong, innocent Annie.

"Finnick, please listen," Coin was annoyed. She paced around the room.

I ignored her request, still staring at the rope on the nightstand. "What are they doing in the Capitol?" I asked her with an angry stare. I became incredibly focused. They could have rescued her. Instead they gave her up to be tortured for my crimes, for their crimes. They all suffered. My mind was rampant. Were they beating her? What were they asking her? What could they ask her? She knew nothing!

Coin wasn't pleased with the topic I chose, "Finnick I need you to listen, we want you as a rebel leader." She told me. It was obvious she was becoming annoyed. She didn't hide it like most people.

But I didn't care. "Is Annie ok?" I became desperate.

"Finnick…" She started, her temper was rising.

I dismissed her warning tone, "I heard you Coin, is Annie ok? What are they doing in the Capitol?" I asked, challenging her.

Her lips tightened and she inched closer to me with a threatening glower. Haymitch and another guard stopped her, "He's useless right now, Coin."

Haymitch was right. All I could think of was Annie's safety. She wasn't really crazy. She was stable. But what if she said something…anything…No. I didn't tell her anything. I hated the secrets I kept from her, but this was the first time I was glad I did. She was stable, right?

She was already so broken before…but she's strong. She's my Annie. My thoughts drifted and I often remembered past moments with her. Her beautiful smile, the way she never backed down, everything about her. Was she ok? God, I prayed for her safety. My eyelids grew heavy and within seconds, I was trapped in a forced sleep again, only to hear her screaming. I needed to get her back.

...

A scream escaped my lips. I never slept. The Capitol was going to kill Finnick. The rebels would be destroyed. I was reminded of that every day.

"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are." My mind tuned in and out of the interview. My mind lingered on Finnick, until it was forced to surrender from attacks, whether they be from my own subconscious or Capitol induced. I sat huddled in my cell, hearing only odds and ends of Peeta's interview with Caesar. My fingers traced lines and swirls in the dirt on the concrete ground. "…I'm calling for a cease-fire." Peeta's voice rang out. Simultaneously Johanna's scream rang out through the glass walls of her prison chamber.

Rage seared the walls of my heart. He was a traitor, destroying everything for which Finnick and Johanna risked their lives! They hauled Peeta into the cells, the cells where we were beat mercilessly, the cells where they kept us trapped like dirty, filthy rats. He backed up to the bars offering me a soft smile. In anger, I launched my arms through the bars, clinging to his throat. Peacekeepers rushed into my cell, pulling me from him. It was an unexpected act of violence. With a new strength, I slammed them against the wall running to him, kissing him on the forehead and slapping him across the cheek.

I had lost myself. "Take this kiss upon the brow!" I screamed at the blond-haired boy. I wanted to destroy him. I couldn't remember why. The Peacekeepers peeled me off him, restraining me as I fought.

The boy with blond hair watched with sympathy, "Get your hands off her," He told them calmly. He looked tired, he looked a little hungry, a little weak.

Suddenly, I didn't want to hurt him. My body relaxed. "And, in parting from you now," I whispered, pushing his hair back. They pulled me back to my cell, and the boy's face morphed into a dream. He became the handsome one. The beautiful one that I found some identity in. "Thus much let me avow-you are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream; yet if hope has flown away in a night, or in a day…" I said, cowering back into the dimly lit corner. I didn't want to speak, but I couldn't stop reciting the old poem I learned a long time ago.

The Peacekeepers dragged the boy to his cell beside mine and after locking us away, they disappeared as well. "Annie, come back," The blond haired boy cooed.

Anger surged again, "Traitor!" I snapped, but lost my sight again, "In a vision, or in none, is it therefore the less gone?" I shouted out, letting my voice ring loudly throughout the chamber.

"Annie, be quiet," The boy pleaded.

But I couldn't. I knew I should have, but I couldn't. My voice kept ringing loudly. I wanted to fight with Finnick. I wanted to be with Finnick. He was becoming clearer in my mind. I sounded on involuntarily. The poem spilled out like breathing. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. Just a dream within a dream," I cried. He was gone. I would never see him again. I was bait. He would come for me and die. Or he was already dead and I was next. He was gone. _Finn…._

I couldn't breathe, my chest tightened. "I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore….and I-I hold within-within my hand grains of the golden sand…" My fingers scratched the dirty floors, searching for the comforts of my old home. I was trapped in a gray box. My heart was breaking. I cried. Tears spilled over my eyelashes, streaming down my face.

"How few!" I breathed, salt water tears lingered on my lips. The taste of the ocean that I once remembered. I didn't try to stop this attack. I just cried. "Yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep, while I weep-while I weep! …I can't stop weeping," I sobbed, letting my trembling hands reach up to my cheeks. I wiped the tears from my face, only to leave shallow scratches along my skin. My hands wrapped around the base of my neck, ignoring the sore bruises already there.

The boy was quiet. "Oh God!" I wailed. "Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp? Oh God! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave? Is that all we see or seem but a dream within a dream? Is this a dream?" I remembered the faces from my past: The woman who looked very much like me, the quiet man with the kind eyes, another woman with the boisterous smile and two men who resembled each other and the handsome boy that always haunted my dreams. I wept. _Mama, are you free? _I cried as I thought of her terrible death. It was coming back to me.

Peeta reached out for me, his hand grazing my fingertips. I pulled away quickly, "Keep your hands off me!" I screamed. "You traitorous bastard! Calling a cease-fire!" I was coming back. I am Annie Cresta. I was a victor of the 70th Hunger Games. I loved Finnick Odair. I still love Finnick Odair. I'm being held captive by the Capitol. The rebels are trying to overthrow the Capitol. The Districts are being destroyed. My family is dead. Finnick's family is dead. I have to get back to him.


	34. He Dreams He's Awake

**He Dreams He's Awake: **Stars.

* * *

><p>Everyone watched me. The hospital attendants threw away the rope Annie had given me. I broke a lot of equipment that day. It was one of my worst moments in Thirteen. Everyone watched me sympathetically.<p>

I eventually found another piece of rope to twist and knot. The motions reminded me of her, and it was the only way I still felt connected to her. I missed her so much. I still saw her in my dreams. I still reached out for her. My hands were restless when I wasn't keeping busy. Sitting in a hospital bed didn't provide a lot of work to be done. Sometimes, I would sit and talk to other patients, but most of them were wounded and silent. A lot of times, I would talk to my doctors, if the sedatives didn't send me drowning in unconsciousness. There was a little girl who helped her mother work on patients. She was pretty and kind. She had a gentle smile and a focus that I only recognized in one other person in District Thirteen. Prim, Katniss' little sister would often check on me and ask me how I felt. She was a kind ear, but she didn't stay for long. She was advised not to since I was now seen as a menace to all medical personal.

The hospital wing was a dark place. Without anything to keep my mind off her, I often drifted around thoughts of Annie and feelings of guilt and regret. I became a man obsessed. I couldn't stay there.

Over the weeks, I was desperate to get into battle. If I could only be distracted by any other way, it would be an invited opportunity.

When I heard Katniss was going into Eight, I begged to go with her. Several of the guards stopped me, and it wasn't until the order came directly from Coin that I lost hope. I wandered the halls in agitation. When I saw her and an Officer standing outside an elevator I had to stop them. She was the mockingjay, she could tell them to let me go. "Katniss, they won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!" I shouted, hoping she saw it as an injustice.

I knew when she looked at me; she doubted the state of my mind. She was nicer though, unlike Coin who dismissed me immediately. "Oh, I forgot. It's this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

It was an awful lie, but anything that involving weaponry I wanted to see. "Really? What's it do?" I asked. I didn't know how a trident could be recreated and named special, other than painting it a fancy color or wielding it in gold.

She shrugged, "I don't know. But if it's anything like my bow and arrows," She held up the immaculate pieces, "You're going to love it." She said with a kind smile I had never seen from her. Katniss was a grimace-and-bear it kind of person, so a smile was a nice change. "You'll need to train with it, though."

I smiled slightly, "Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there."

I turned but she stopped me, "Finnick? Maybe some pants?" She suggested with a smirk.

I looked down at my legs completely forgetting I was dressed in a hospital gown. I chuckled a little, remembering Katniss' shyness around pant less men. Then I remembered Annie and the night I gave her that ring. I remembered how she blushed and giggled…how beautiful she was, how the sun set on her tan skin that night. I wish I could relive that. I shook my head and instantly whipped my hospital gown off, standing in my underwear, like with Annie. "Why? Do you find this distracting?" I asked, posing in the same poses. Katniss laughed and giggled, and it was almost like Annie was with me. The elevator appeared.

"I'm only human, Odair," She said as she stepped in with the Officer.

I heard Annie's voice in that sentence and I almost thought it would destroy me. But instead, I tried to shake it off and went down to Special Weaponry. Killing things, even if they were only targets would be better than the consumption of Annie Cresta and her knot tying.

Once my "training" was complete, I was sent back to the hospital ward. Soon enough, I woke up to find Katniss in the ward with me. I walked to her bed and ate dinner with her while we watched the newest piece of propaganda she shot earlier in Eight. I didn't say much…there wasn't much to discuss on it. "People should know that happened," I told her. She watched the screen blankly. "And now they do."

"Let's turn it off Finnick, before they run it again." She said. I reached for the remote but she stopped me when the Capitol anthem began to play. She didn't have to stop me though. My hand froze as I stared, waiting for any news on their prisoners. It was Peeta…only Peeta. My heart sank as my fist plunged into leg. I couldn't let Katniss see how annoyed I was that only Peeta showed up on the screen. After all, she was the face of the rebellion; they knew to torture her first. It was more effective. My mind buzzed with questions and envy. I just wanted a glimpse of her. A tiny glimpse for hope…until a terrible thought crept into my mind. I wished she were dead.

I watched the screen and then turned to Katniss. She looked horrified. There was something different about Peeta tonight. He looked worse than the first interview. He questioned the rebellion and there was a fire in his eyes. A rage tore through me as I thought about the lives at stake and all us as rebels had sacrificed, but I kept quiet. I turned off the television. If they knew we saw it…they would keep us here forever. They would hide us. They would do anything to make sure we didn't get better, to give us reason to not rescue them. I gripped her arm, "We didn't see it."

She stares at me, confused. "What?"

"We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?" Peeta's words would take us out of action. I would never be able to save her with that fool on the screen. Katniss would plunge into the despair Annie and I met constantly. That couldn't happen. "Finish you dinner." I commanded. They ran in, so I started a new conversation with her. "Gale looked nice on camera…why don't you?" She laughed, but only half-heartedly. I didn't blame her. We didn't talk about Peeta.

No one did for days. Katniss and I went out into the woods. It was the only thing they let me do besides train with Beetee. "I haven't heard one word about it. No one's told you anything?" I asked, considerably worried. "Not even Gale?" But she didn't speak. She only shook he head and watched the sparse woods. "Maybe he's trying to find a time to tell you privately." It's obvious she's stuck in her own mind. It's how I was when Annie went into the Games, but I had more of a purpose then than we do now.

When I went back to my bed, I was consumed by thoughts of her. But I preferred it, to the idea of forgetting her. I just wish I had been stronger for her. I wish I had a moment with her. I wish I could relive every moment back in Four with her. I wondered where she was. I wondered what she thought of me. I wondered if she still loved me. I wondered if she was stable. Was she safe? Was she in trouble? Did they hurt her? Did they try to make her hate me? How were they going to use her against me next?

I missed her. I wanted so desperately for her to be beside me. I needed her. I, Finnick Odair, never needed anyone as much as I needed Annie. She was my only family left. She was the one who held my ring close to her heart. She was the one who knew how to make me smile and ache at the same time. She was the one who loved me at my best and longed for me at my worst. I needed her.

I daydreamed about her on our private bank back in Four always, during training, during tests, during rebel meetings. I learned to focus better, even with her suffering in the back of my mind. I had to fight for her.

I found a lot of Annie in Katniss and that gave me some comfort. But Katniss was trapped in her own cage of torment dished out from the Capitol. I was just her anchor.

They were working on getting our propos to reach the Capitol. Beetee was able to hack into their systems, in time to interrupt one of Peeta's interviews. A clip of me talking about Rue played on the screen. I frowned at the sight of me, at the memory of Rue, but it was quickly over as the Capitol took over again. The small instance of victory, diminished. I stayed quiet, my hand clamped to Katniss'. I zoned in on the broadcast.

Peeta looked pained, "Katniss…how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts." His mad ramblings were right. "And you…in Thirteen…" Peeta watched the screen, taking in a sharp breath. "Dead by morning!" The broadcast cut.

The room became silent, and then chaos.

…

I didn't talk anymore. I didn't sleep. I stopped crying. I only thought of him. The ring on my finger was a constant reminder. Even when my mind began to fall in the dark depths of reality, I focused on remembering the handsome man who was once my fiancé. I remembered his perfect sea green eyes when they stared at me. His auburn hair, and smile, flawless. He was mine once upon a time, and I, a bedraggled creature, used to be his.

"Annie?" His voice called out to me.

I looked at Peeta, beaten and forced into misguided hatred. I was the last of people in his world he trusted, but he was a person I couldn't bring myself to rely on. I didn't answer.

"You never went mad, did you?" He asked. It was an odd question. I sank back into my corner, only to feel his blue eyes gazing at me.

I shook my head. "No." My voice croaked. "Not then." I told him, drawing patterns into the floor.

I expected our conversation to end, like it normally would have, but he was persistent today, "When?" He asked, his eyes shifting wildly for answers, "When did you break?" There was a fear hidden in the blue.

I didn't look at him. I didn't want to see his pathetic expression or the reflection of my own pitied face swimming in his eyes. "Whenever I had to leave him," I told him quietly.

He asked for our story and leaned against the cold wall. But I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to tell him the secrets of Finnick's relationship and mine. I was quiet for a long time. "Please Annie?" He begged in a whisper.

I shrugged, still focused on the floor's grim, "I fell in love with him when we were young." My voice was small, nothing above a whisper when I spoke about Finnick. Sometimes when I talked about him, I would lose sight of where I was or who I was with and end up singing an old song or reciting lines from old stories my mother taught me a long time ago. They were really the only things I remembered from my childhood now, love stories, stories of loss and heartbreak.

"Was it love at first sight?" He asked, chuckling slightly. Most people in love with Finnick were accused of that. He was handsome there was no denying it. He was a face you could dream about, but no. It was his famed beauty or his haughty smile that won me. When I saw him for who he really was, yes, when the masks and disguises melted away, and I caught my first glimpse of the real Finnick Odair…yes.

I smirked, shaking my head. "Yes. And no," I answered with a small sigh. It wasn't that simple. Peeta didn't understand. "We were young and stubborn. Did you love Katniss right away?" I asked, not wanting to speak of Finnick anymore. Saying his name aloud was torturous. It was like every time I mentioned him or even whispered his names, I was losing a small piece of him. As if, the thought of him could be taken away so easily. But I did think of him constantly. His eyes, his smile, his touch. I missed his hands, their rough, calloused feel…gentle and protective. I missed the way he looked at me or talked to me. I missed the way he made me laugh, intentionally or not.

Peeta gulped, engulfed in his own thoughts and memories of the girl he had once loved so much, "Yes." He said finally.

I moved away from my wall, inching closer to the small space between our cells, "Do you still love her?" I asked, now pulling my knees to my chest.

He shook his head staring absentmindedly at the ground, "She's not my Katniss anymore."

I frowned, knowing what they were telling him. They were going to turn him against her, and they already began. I could only help him see the dangers of trusting the Capitol, hoping he'd learn from Finnick's mistakes and mine. You can't negotiate with the Capitol. "You can't trust the Capitol Peeta," I told him quietly.

He stared up at the high, cracked ceiling. "They're going to kill us."

But I knew better, "They won't. They can't kill us Peeta…" I told him, leaning against the bars that separated us, I grabbed his hand, patting it reassuringly. "They need something to hang on to. They need their bait." The truth was almost as bad as the idea of us dying at the hands of Snow.

"Their bait?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

I sighed, "That's what we are to those in Thirteen. That's how they use me against Finnick." The consequences of my decisions sometimes overwhelmed me so much I would starve myself and sleep for days at a time. If I thought Finnick was hurting, I would stay awake for days, but once my body wore from exhaustion I couldn't bring myself to come out of whatever hell my mind put me. "I should have left earlier…I should have gone into hiding. I should have died." I muttered my ramblings as to reprimand myself, hoping Peeta hadn't heard, but he did.

"Why did you stay with him?" He asked, eyes pained with sympathy like before.

The answer was obvious. I shrugged. Why did he continuously try to save Katniss? Why was he here and not in Thirteen, alive and well? Why did I think I could ever save us? "Sometimes when you're in love, you make stupid decisions."

He smiled a little. "I guess so, yeah." He put his head in his hands. Peeta, the poor boy in love. I watched him with a sad smile. It must have been how people felt when they looked at us, Finnick and me.

I stared at him, hoping he'd remember his love for the girl on fire. He didn't look up. I grabbed his hand again, giving it a squeeze. "But that's the point of being in love," I said with a soft, foolish smile. "Making the decision to love that person every day, no matter the consequences…and that's what I did. And I don't regret that." I told him quietly. Peeta had a small beam cross his lips, but it was short-lived.

"So why did you go mad?" He asked, whisper resounding against the old walls.

I looked at my fingers as they trembled. The golden ring still shone on my left hand. I turned my hand over and studied the ring's beauty, "Because I watched him fall apart. Slowly," I said, remembering Finn's trembling when he was desperate to save me. "And then I watched myself follow him shortly after." I said, remembering the lonely nights I spent without him back in Four.

Peeta shook his head. "That's not fair."

I frowned. My hair was falling in my face. "Nothing's fair," I breathed. "Look at you and Katniss."

That seemed to upset Peeta more than I expected. His hand balled into a fist and retracted. "Yeah, a fake marriage, a fake baby…nothing was real there." He laughed bitterly.

"Don't say that," I scolded him quietly. "She loved you." I told him. "It was in the way she looked at you." I remembered it from the Quell. I knew the look well. When she reached her hand out to him at the jabberjay barrier…I knew she desperately loved him more than maybe she even knew. It was familiar. It was how Finnick used to give me every time he left me in Four.

Peeta smirked but it was a look of dejection. "You're an optimist Annie," He muttered.

I shook my head, letting my mind soak in memories of Finnick, letting my heart ache for him. "I'm nothing now Peeta." I said, closing my eyes and falling back into nightmares that never let me go.

Peeta took back my hand. "I'm going to save them," He promised me quietly.

"How?" I whispered, eyes focused on the corner of my cell, mind drowning in madness.

Peeta never answered. Instead, he fell asleep and when the bars clanked against one another, it signaled it was time for his next interview. It was a quiet day. I hadn't left my cell. I just stayed pressed against the wall forgetting a world that had already forgotten me. My trance was broken when I heard the distant cries and screams. Peeta came back, bloodied and beaten. I will never forget the heartbreaking pain of an innocent man's screaming.


	35. Ungodly Hour

I have been stalking Finnick and Annie blogs all day...it's unhealthy. Gotta love tumblr. :) So, this is a super quick update/short chapter but the next one should be a lot more detailed. Anyways, happy reading!

**Ramblings:** excerpts from TheAwakening Kate Chopin.

**Ungodly Hour: **The Fray.

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><p>I waited, rocking back and forth. I could almost picture the bombs hitting Thirteen. I could picture Finnick's blood, splattered across the ground of District. My heart raced and there were times I couldn't stop myself from screaming. Peacekeepers came for me, hiding me away in solitary. Madness overcame me and I clawed at the stone walls. I shrieked for what seemed like hours. It wasn't until a new day did they come pull me from my isolation. I searched the faces of the old, caged victors. <em>Was he alive? <em>Worry drove me mad. I muttered new tales of death. I was desperate to keep quiet, for fear they'd take me back to my lonely cage, but I couldn't stop.

My lips spoke without prompting. My utterances were constant and hysteric. "There came before her imagination the figure of a man standing beside a desolate rock on the seashore. He was naked," I whispered. _Stop Annie. _Panic overtook me as I spoke of the imaginary man from the fictional woman. I could only think of Finnick, dead Finnick. "His attitude was one of hopeless resignation as he looked toward a distant bird winging its flight away from him." I kept seeing his image. Suddenly my hands began to grasp at my throat. An odd strength reached my fingers as my gripped tightened.

"Goodbye. 'Good-by – because I love you,'" I gasped, now sobbing. It happened every time I fell into the darkness. I tried to pull myself free from my own lock, but I couldn't. "The water was chill, but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke... She did not look back now, but went on and on…" I couldn't stop. I choked on my words. All I could remember was the woman walking out into the sea and never coming back, ignoring her fear. I should have gone. I should have done the same. Why didn't I? Why didn't I sink into the ocean like her? He would have been ok.

The guards stopped me. My thoughts on mortality controlled me…something I hadn't realized until the bruises appeared.

I was going to die here…but by my own terms.

…

They ushered us into the barracks, the lowest of grounds in the gloomy District Thirteen. They looked more like caves. The ceiling shook as bombs fell, but we were safe. We were all safe and the caverns were quiet as people fell asleep. They told me to rest, but I couldn't. Instead, my mind stormed with my darkest thoughts. _Was she alive? Did they hurt her for his crimes? _No. They needed me to cower down to them and crawl back for her. Hope, after all was greater than fear. I tossed and turned on my mattress, and when sleep never came…not that I wanted to dream, I let my fingers tangle into a new rope. My ears pricked when I heard someone approaching my corner of the barrack. I sat up, only to see Katniss standing over me. "I needed someone to talk to," She whispered. She told me the things she found out about Peeta. I wanted to seem shocked, but all I could offer was sympathy.

I didn't speak I just gave her sad glances and nodded when she spoke. There wasn't much to say. "This is what they're doing to you with Annie, isn't it?" She asked, her gray eyes watching me fearfully.

I smirked bitterly, "Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel information." Everyone thought she was mad, and even when they found out she wasn't…They knew our games. "They know I'd never have risked telling her anything like that. For her own protection," I muttered, feeling an immense amount of guilt as I thought of my sweet Annie locked away.

Katniss shook her head with a terrible look of frustration and despair, "Oh, Finnick. I'm so sorry," She whispered, looking to the ground. She must have saw Peeta. Her features contorted into a new look of worry and then another grimace.

I frowned. "No, I'm sorry. That I didn't warn you somehow," I say, remembering our rescue from the Quell. My offered consolation didn't please her then.

She gulped, with a look of disbelief. "You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow," She said letting her voice trail as she stared into the distance of the darkness.

They were bait, but they were also to crush us and break us in a way that was most painful. "I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you," I said tying a more complicated knot that always got a smile from Annie, "Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates." I pulled on the rope, letting the knot fall. "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected you'd continue that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I—" I stopped myself from rambling on. It wasn't kind, my first impression of Katniss.

"That you what?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow, but fear welled in her voice.

I shook my head, setting the rope aside and pressing my palms against my eyes. I sighed, "That I knew I'd misjudged you. That you do love him. I'm not saying in what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him." The last part I shrugged off, like it was a casual statement.

We didn't speak for a while until she asked, "How do you bear it?"

I almost laughed. I looked at her in bewilderment. Surely, she was smarter. I shook my head violently, "I don't, Katniss!" I snapped, "Obviously, I don't." I told her tossing my hands in the air and letting them slap down on my mat. I hid my hands in my palms and pushed my hair back, sighing sadly. "I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking." Because there wasn't. I was tortured constantly. Her perfect image was everywhere, and she was trapped. All I could hope is that she was still well. I looked up seeing the fear in Katniss' eyes grow. I shook my head, offering another spout of sympathy, "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart." I told her, picking back up the piece of rope. I ran it through my hands. I could still remember her nimble fingers wrap around mine when she taught me to net. A mourning smile crossed my lips and then faded. "The more you can distract yourself, the better." I told her, still twisting the rope around my fingers. "First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine." I passed it to Katniss and she smiled but only slightly.

"Thank you," She whispered. She got up. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want to be left alone with my thoughts, but what would we talk about. We'd only mourn together. I sat alone on my mattress, envisioning Annie beside me. But she wasn't here.

I fell asleep for a short amount of time. I had a dream. It was so quick though, it almost felt like reality.

She stood in front of me, her beautiful, tiny frame. Her fingers touched her radiant smile. Her eyes watched me with a shyness. She looked down, chin touching her tan shoulder. She bit her coral colored lips and watched me from her long black lashes. "_Annie," _I breathed. Her deep green eyes met mine again. Her soft dark curls whipped around her and the noise of the ocean drifted behind us like beautiful music. She held up a hand, as if she were reaching out to me. She opened her mouth, and sang the song we had both come to know well, "Please set me free, my dear." But the voice wasn't hers. I don't know who the voice belonged to. Suddenly the music stopped and Annie was on a pedestal, a beautiful necklace wrapped around her neck. She smiled at me. I reached out to her, desperately wanting to hold her. Her body swayed away from me, and fear crept into her eyes. Her hands tugged at the twisted necklace. It was rope. She began to sob and then looking up at me one last time. She jumped from her pedestal. I shouted for her, running to catch her. A cannon sounded. Her scream was the last thing I heard.

I didn't save her.

I woke up in tears and sweat, with the image of her lifeless body hanging from the scaffold terrorizing me.

_I didn't save her._


	36. Transatlanticism

**Transatlanticism: **Death Cab For Cutie.

* * *

><p>A week passed and although I was deemed fit to rejoin society, the same dream haunted me constantly. I couldn't get her terrified face from my mind. She consumed me.<p>

Outside of my mind, nothing much fazed me. Life in Thirteen was wretched. Everything was scheduled. It was dull and gray. I missed the ocean. I missed Four so much, but I adjusted here somewhat.

I went on like everyone else, with normal routines, training, sitting through leader meetings; I put on the normal charade like in the Capitol but with less smiling and seduction. It was nice not having to charm anyone here. There were still girls who looked after me. I grew annoyed with them. Some would follow me everywhere I went. So, I befriended Katniss so they'd become discouraged. But soon enough, I began to appreciate her friendship for more reasons than just avoiding giggling little girls. We became each other's anchor I suppose. She kept me sane when all I could see was Annie. I kept her calm when anyone would talk about Peeta. I didn't break, and I was grateful for that. With training and tying knots, we became somewhat normal again…until Katniss became hysteric one afternoon. It was the afternoon a little after the bombing. They needed her to film another propaganda so the world knew Thirteen was alive still. But she was unraveling from the beginning. Outside near the old Justice Building of Thirteen laid a bouquet of pink and red roses. She shook in fear and then put on a brave face. But once the questions started and the camera focused on her, she stopped. I knew what she was thinking…she was taking the blame.

She was taking the blame, because we didn't save them. She didn't save Peeta and the same goes for my Annie. Katniss was gone. My anchor sank. As she lost her mind, I did too. I couldn't handle my thoughts. I could only see Annie, hanging from the fence surrounding District Thirteen. I only thought about her imminent death. Or maybe she was already dead! I couldn't snap out of it. I became enraged and then frightened. I tried to focus on the situation, but all I saw was her. I fought whoever put their hands on me. A needle slid into my arm, filling my veins with a sedative.

I hated this part of Thirteen the most. The drugs. I was constantly forced into sleep and it destroyed me. _Annie! _I called out in my dreams. I would search a dark road for her. Sometime in the darkness I found her. I sank to my knees and she mirrored me. We were on sand. An ocean was roaring behind us. But when I saw her, that noise was muted. In my dreams, she was still beautiful, but disturbed. _"Finnick, I miss you." _Her soft voice would whisper. She drew a thin line in the sand that separated us.

I reached out to hold her but she slipped through my fingers. _"Annie! I'm going to come save you! I swear." _I told her as the tide rose.

She smiled her radiant smile and shook her head. _"Goodbye love." _She said, backing away. Her feet touched the tide.

"_No, I need you Annie." _I pleaded, still trying to reach her, she was only inches away from me, but I could never reach her.

She smiled again, holding her hand out for me, waiting for me to take it. _"I'm here love." _She said, backing into the swirling water.

I tried again to grab her hand but she was just out of reach. _"No you're not!" _I screamed as the ground ripped in two.

A trench developed between us. _"I am my love." _She told me, but the smile was gone and the ocean always separated us.

"_No! Come back! Annie come back!" _I bellowed, clumsy fingers fumbling in the air, reaching out to nothing. We were farther apart in each moment. My fingers dug into the sand around me, but sand disappeared. The ocean was gone. Annie was gone. I was alone no the same dark road that I started on.

"Finnick!" I new voice enters the dream. A hand grabs me. Everything is hazy. I woke up in a cold sweat. "Finnick!" Katniss stood above my hospital bed.

"Get off me." I muttered annoyed, not worried about sparing her feelings.

Katniss looked disturbed, "Finnick! They're going to get them!" She said, frantically. "They're going to save them!"

I shook my head. I must still be dreaming. Katniss shook me again, "Finnick, they're going to save Peeta and Annie and all the others the Capitol captured." She kept explaining in her misplaced frenzy. "But they won't let us go! They won't let us go with them!" Her voice was rising with panic, I only sat there in confusion, "Say something, damn it!" She demanded.

But I couldn't. After a short pause a small smile finally touched my lips, "This…this is great!"

She shook her head, "No it's not! We're waiting! I can't wait to only hear that Peeta's dead!"

I chuckled hollowly. She was so melodramatic. "Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's….it's more than we could hope for!" It was almost over, my torment and pain. Annie would be free soon!

The curtain pulled back and Haymitch appeared, "If we can get it in the next few hours, Beetee can air it leading up to the rescue, and maybe keep the Capitol's attention elsewhere." He said.

I nodded, thinking the plan through. "Yes, a distraction. A decoy of sorts," I added. My voice trailed. What would distract Snow?

Haymitch continued on, ignoring our silence. "What we really need is something so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away. Got anything like that?" He asked, looking to us for ideas.

I looked to Katniss and we both knew an outburst of action and snappy lines wouldn't give them enough time…no, it would have to be something more. It would have to be the material focused so tightly around the Capitol, that it would shock and appall its viewers.

I knew our plan.

…

They kept me locked up. They chained my arms down. They fed me when I refused to eat. They drugged me when I refused to sleep. They fed me pill after pill to keep me sane. Sometimes they were little capsules that obliterated my memory. On those days, I had more freedom. Sometimes they were sleeping pills. I forgot those days too. Most things I had forgotten. I didn't have Peeta to help me remember. Just his screams and hers. I sat, locked in my cell, trying to dream of the next time I would hold him.

They would keep me awake to remind me he wasn't here. They would play his laugh. They would replay his Games. They would play my interview…sometimes on the worst of days they would show me images of Thomas. I couldn't focus. My mind was rampant. The thoughts would control me and suddenly I would find myself broken, curled up on the floor, and shrieking.

Several times, I tried to take my life. I never even noticed in my fits of confusion. They never touched me…they didn't have to. Whenever things became overwhelming, they revived me and the cycle would start again. They could control me, easily.

It was quiet that morning. He walked into my cell. "Well, how are we feeling today my dear?" He asked coolly, condescendingly. I didn't answer. I knew the old man was smiling at my withered exterior. "Haven't hurt yourself, have you?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

I shook my head, clinging to the dirty floor.

"Shall we go for a little walk? I have some questions to ask," He asked politely. I pulled myself up from the floor, sitting up against the cold, stone wall, facing the old man. I felt so far from reality.

"I'd rather not." I whispered.

Snow smiled, "Well, I'm not an unreasonable man, we can sit here." But of course he didn't sit. He stood over me, "Annie, are you still worried about Finnick?" Snow's eyes were cold and cruel. "He's not here my dear. And even if he were…he's not yours. He could never be. He could never stay forever…" He laughed dryly as if he knew a private joke I didn't.

I shook my head weakly, "Stop." I breathed. My voice was broken.

Snow watched me, spite rising as he spoke. "That's Finnick Odair, a beautiful specimen, but can't love." He said, taking pleasure in my cringing pain. "I'm sorry dear. Someone should have warned you."

I looked down at my hands, remembering the little gold band, "You don't know him."

"Oh, but don't I?" The old man chuckled.

Silence filled the cell. He watched me, soaking in my pain, until a woman ran into the celled room, "President Snow…you should see this. Thirteen…they're broadcasting…" She said terror filled her eyes.

He smirked, "Excuse me my pet."

I huddled to the floor. He was waiting for me to die. They didn't have to touch me. They could control me. Just with words.

…

This was it. I was going to expose them for everything. I was going to save her.

Haymitch grimaced, stopping me before I moved in front of the camera, "You don't have to do this," He said with an odd sense of sympathy.

I nodded, "Yes, I do. If it will help her," I said, balling up my rope in my hand. I could almost hear her laugh, when I closed my eyes tight enough. "I'm ready."

I closed my eyes trying to picture her. Was she watching? Could she see me? How should I start this? I thought I wanted to tell them about Annie. To give her some sign, but instead I just spoke. "President Snow used to…sell me…my body, that is." I felt removed. Telling my accounts was tougher than I thought it would be. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money.

"If you refuse, he kills someone you love. So you do it. I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless, because the people I loved were so defenseless." My thoughts went out to Annie and my late family, but mostly Annie. They knew how to manipulate our relationship in every way, and they knew how to take her away from me. I frowned, remembering the days I left her to spend nights by guilty lovers. The nights beside the most wretched, despicable people with the richest luxuries haunted my thoughts, but the idea of Annie having to do the same...those ideas were the most dangerous. Those thoughts destroyed me. She was so pure. She was too good. Maybe in sense, I, a murderer of sorts deserved what happened to me...but Annie, Annie didn't. "To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets," I sighed.

"And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others." So, I went on telling my story. I didn't leave out a single detail. Each account came with its own gripping gore.

"My favorite ones were the ones whispered after drunken nights. Such as Senator Thierry Todd, what with his passionate affair with his own brother, or Deryck Mugler, stabbing his father for a fat inheritance check and a seat closer to President Snow at dinner parties. Madame Hayley Scott, blackmailed her husband, who in turn paid for her time with me. Jeremy Scanlan, an arsonist, but you wouldn't know, since he is social royalty…buildings engulfed in flames for a lovers' bidding…who only made out with the money gained from the insurance battles. The last fire he set was to murder his ex-lover," I told my audience.

"And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." Oh, the details of Snow's reign were rich. Every truth I said, with a harsh coldness. Every truth was a new dagger to use against him. "These are the secrets of your beloved Capitol. These are their lies exposed. And there is nothing you can take from me…not anymore." I finished my speech and waited. The camera crew just stared, each in shock. "Cut," I told them. I had enough cameras for today.

Plutarch approached me, "Finnick that was brilliant." He said, congratulating me. "Come with me son." He said, walking me towards the sparse woods, away from the crowd of people. "If there's anything else you know, tell me, tell me….that way we can use them again." He asked, greedily.

I frowned, pleased with my work today, but not because of the exposure of evil, but the chance that it might have saved Annie. "No sir, I think one big shock was enough." I told him politely.

Plutarch frowned, unsatisfied with my answer, "Was it? Do you think it was enough to save your little Annabelle?" He asked, ignorantly, lifting an eyebrow to intrigue me.

I didn't play his campaign game, I simply nodded, "I do. And her name is Annie," I corrected him.

He shook his head, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Son, I just want to see everyone come out happy after this."

I chuckled. "Well, you and I know that's not realistic." I placed my hands on his shoulders, mimicking him, "Thank-you sir, for your help and for all you've done…but I would just like Annie back. Nothing else," I left Plutarch at the edge of the woods and walked back to the underground District.

And now we wait.

Katniss and I spent most of our time tying knots. We refused dinner. We refused food or sleep. It was normal for me. The waiting was more torture. Once my fingers were raw and bleeding, I decided to stop tying. I hunkered over, resting my arms on my knees. She had to be safe. It had to be soon. She had to be coming home soon. "Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" Katniss asked, derailing my thoughts.

I shook my head, "No," I said quickly. We were young and both of us were stubborn. With the Games and me leaving, it just couldn't work. I was too focused on other things, even though I knew she was mine years before I had ever admitted it. "…She crept up on me." Katniss smiled slightly, but looked a little worried.

"But God…she's wonderful," I said, trying to reassure her. Not that there was a need to defend Annie, but the act of describing her was an immense joy. Once I started, I couldn't stop. "When you meet her…You'll meet her and you'll love her. She's beautiful," I stammered, concentrating on my memories of her. "It's sad what they turned us into. It's sad. She stays sad for days at a time. She won't talk." Katniss listened to me, intently. "Some days she just prefers the quiet, but she's perfection. She's beautiful. You'll see. When she smiles…you'll see." I told her, letting my imagination run to her.

Katniss smiled, "She sounds wonderful Finnick," She breathed, looking up at the ceiling of the hummingbird room.

It would be soon…we just had to wait.


	37. Happiness

If you've never listened to the songs I've posted...shame. Kidding, but most of them are amazing and I just stumbled on them through writing this, but this song, i most suggest you listen to. It's not only one of my favorites, it's all I've ever heard SINCE reading Annie and Finnick's reunion in Mockingjay. Plus, the ending reminds me of one of my favorite poems: "Eldorado" Edgar Allan Poe.

_Happiness feels a lot like sorrow _

_Let it be, you can't make it come or go _

_But you are gone- not for good but for now_

**_Gone for now feels a lot like gone for good. _**

...

**_Happiness damn near destroys you_**

**_Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor _**

_So you tell yourself, that's probably enough for now _

_Happiness has a violent roar. _

...

_Happiness is like the old man told me _

_Look for it, but you'll never find it all_

_But let it go, live your life and leave it _

**_Then one day, wake up and she'll be home... _**

**Happiness: **The Fray.

* * *

><p>The Capitol was chaotic. Screams from the outside arose. Terrified, I hid in the corner of my cell. It's what I was best. Rushed footsteps approached our cells. I shut my eyes and covered my ears. They were coming. They were angry. They would torture Johanna or Peeta, like they did after every broadcast. And they would leave me to the savage brutality of my own mind. My cell opened. "Annie," An unfamiliar voice said. I looked up to the tall handsome boy that stood in front of me with an extended hand, "I'm Gale, come with me." He said, pulling me to my feet.<p>

I didn't question him. I had seen him with Katniss on the broadcasts. He was from Thirteen. "Boggs, do you have them?" He shouted down the corridor.

"Yeah, I'm on your heel." The man returned, with a weak Johanna on his arm, two other men were supporting Peeta. "Go!" The man ordered.

Gale looked down the halls to see if there were any pursuers, "Come on Annie, we're gonna get you home." He said, pulling me behind him.

Gunfire sounded. "Get down!" He shouted, pushing me into a wall. A shot fired again and hit him in the back. Gale screamed, writhing in pain.

"Run Annie!" He ushered me, then the others, bellowing for them to hurry. Another man pulled Gale to his feet and they ran. The man named Boggs grabbed my arm and pulled me up the ladder with him. My body froze as we were glued to the ladder and lifted into the hovercraft. Panic and adrenaline overwhelmed me. "Shh…you'll be home soon." One of the men told me, "Here take this, it'll make the ride easier." He said, slipping me a glass of orange liquid. I drank from the cup.

Within minutes, I drifted off to sleep. My mind danced with dark shapes and cold thoughts. I was going home. But I didn't know what was waiting for me there. I thought on the man who I remembered as Finnick. I remembered most of his physical appearance from the videos in the Capitol. The image of the ring floated in my mind. I remembered small things, but not him fully. Moments with him were hazy. I had been gone for so long. Would he remember me? Did he think of me? Did he still love me? Did I still love him? We were different now, weren't we? A deeper sleep claimed me.

In the depths of my mind, I saw two lovers. The tall man was grinning: beautiful, prestigious, ambitious…and his lover, stunning and gentle, who watched him with such intensity. Their love seemed to consume the entirety of the dream. Then another force came into play. He danced around an old man who watched with laughter, but his eyes were dark and cold. The man dismissed his lover and she fell to her knees with sorrow. She went mad, and Fate wrapped her hands around the poor, mad girl's throat, taking her as her own. The boy died of heartbreak. And the dream was over.

I didn't remember him still. Just that with him, I was happy…but that feeling of joy was never permanent.

Bright lights infiltrated my thoughts. I opened my eyes to another white room and fear crept into the depths of my heart. I was still in the Capitol…it took seconds for me to realize my surroundings…it wasn't a room I recognized. I woke up to several people standing over me. I was lying in a hospital bed, hooked to several machines. "She's conscious." There was a buzz of noise. Doctors were running around with nurses following closely behind them.

The ones surrounding me were calm, examining charts and machines, "Physical shape seems fine…" A shorter man announced to a team dressed in white coats. "Bruises and some external damage, but no internal bleeding," He told them as they started writing on their clipboards.

The man looked to me, lowering his glasses, "Do you know your name ma'am?" I tried to speak but my mouth was dry. "Ma'am, can you speak?"

"My name is…" I started, then cleared my throat, "My name is Annie Cresta." I finally squeaked.

The doctor smiled a little, "Ms. Cresta, you're in District Thirteen," He told me, "We're just running tests." He said to reassure the little bit of panic I'm sure was visible. "Do you feel ok?"

"I'm sore," I mumbled.

One of the nurses smiled. "You'll feel better soon," She said, patting me on the forehead. "Here, rest a little longer, we're just going to clean you up." She told me as my doctor and the rest of his team left. The chaos of the hospital was forgotten with the close of a curtain.

I closed my eyes, dreaming only of waves now. I woke up again, this time clean and naked. I inspected my arms, the cuts and scratches were fading away. They had removed my ratty dress, leaving me with nothing but my undergarments. I wrapped the bed sheet around my body. Nurses came to my side again, checking my vitals. I didn't speak. I sat there, letting them inspect me. I looked around, noticing the bright lights flushed out the gray walls of the hospital ward. The nurses pulled back the curtain, subtly shielding me from the gurney that passed. Johanna had to be here somewhere. My eyes darted around, searching for her.

They met his. I saw him. I saw him across the ward for the first time and an emotion welled in me that I had abandoned long ago. "Finnick," I whispered. Even from such a distance, he was a strikingly handsome man, even in sleep deprivation. His hair was tangled, his tall stature was hunched over a bit, and he seemed thinner than I remember, but I remembered him. A new energy ran through me. I remembered the truth of Finnick Odair, not the Capitol designed mutation. I remembered the young boy who pulled me from a deadly ocean. My companion back on the private beach of District Four. My mentor and friend in a time of need during my own Games. The love of my life. My comfort and shelter when my world crumbled. Finnick Odair, he was the last ray of light in my very dark world. My fingers tapped wildly and I began to fidget. "Annie, I need you to sit still," A doctor ordered. I couldn't. I needed him. I needed to hold him and touch him and to hear him. I pushed my help away from me, clutching to the bed sheet.

"Get off me," I croaked, my voice caught in my throat. They tried to keep me still, but I was already out of their grasp. I remembered him. Happiness stirred in my chest as my heart raced. "Finnick!" I cried. The sheet fluttered around me as I ran. "Finnick!" I cried again, pushing past every obstacle to reach him.

His eyes grew wide and he reached out for me. In three steps, he met me with open arms. I flung myself into his chest. He caught me, stumbling backwards, falling into the wall, laughing. "My Annie," He whispered, lifting me from the ground. He pulled me into his arms, wrapping one tightly around me, suspending me, and another behind my ear which only pulled me closer. I hugged him around the neck, kissing his ear, then cheek. I held his face in my hands, studying him then kissing him. He smiled each time his lips met mine.

I melted at his touch. His voice was the perfect melody. He was perfection. My heart swelled with each kiss.

"I'm so sorry," He gasped, "I should have told you." He said, kissing me again, with urgency. My fingers tangled in his hair. "I love you," He told me. I couldn't breathe, I loved him extraordinarily.

I stopped him, pressing my forehead against his, tracing the lines of his face. "You're ok," I breathed, staring at him, taking in every piece of him, every change of him, every memory, everything I could have ever loved about him. I stared, hungrily, not in the sense of lust, but to remember him, to recover him from the wreckage of our separation. It was like when you stop indulging in sugar...the minute you renew that sense of your taste buds, there's a heavy craving for more. I was in a new state of mind, senses buzzing, still bewildered by him, by his presence. He was mine. I was the possession of his heart and he was mine. Fantastic love like this seemed so foreign though it was once a luxury in which I dwelled. He let me down reluctantly, but he never let me go. He pushed his hands through my hair and I buried my face in his chest, still clinging to him. His hold around me was strong and secure. He still loved me.

He hid his face in my hair, "I'll never leave you again," He whispered in my ear, hugging me tighter. He was my Finnick, past the broken faith and the destruction he was there. Every argument, every smile, every kiss, every touch...imprinted on my mind. He was there. The vaults of him I had closed in the Capitol opened with such ferocity, my mind flooded with wealth in knowledge of him. I missed him more with each second that passed.

My fists clutched the back of his shirt as I pressed into him, closing every space between us, "Say you'll stay," I begged quietly. My heart drummed against my chest as elation filled my soul.

He stood up straight and lifted my chin. His tired sea-green eyes sparkled even in fluorescent lights. "I'll stay," He smiled at me, stroking my cheek, "Always."

This happiness was ours and it was forever.


	38. Doubting

**Doubting Thomas: **Nickel Creek.

* * *

><p>Pacing. I was always pacing now. My mind was quieter now than it had been, but there were times it still buzzed with pointless words and phrases. Chatter.<p>

"Annie, please sit," She motioned to the small white cushioned chair in front of her. I looked around the bleak room for cameras, mirrors, eavesdroppers.

"No," I said, shaking my head and still pacing around the room, grazing the gray walls with my fingertips.

Doctor Jacobs sighed, "Will you at least talk?" She asked me, crossing her legs and balancing her clipboard on her knee.

"About what?" I asked absently. There wasn't much to talk about. I didn't like these appointments. I never had anything to say. It frustrated me being analyzed.

The old woman shrugged, "Anything. Just talk for five minutes." She said calmly, peering from her square framed glasses.

"Two," I argued.

Jacobs smirked. "Three."

I finally stopped searching the room. "Fine," I sighed, frowning and taking my seat. "My topic?"

She smiled, picking up her clipboard again, "Anything you choose." Her voice was inviting.

"That's a broad spectrum." I muttered trying to ignore her scrutiny.

Jacobs smiled again, "That's the point. To know what's going on in your mind." She said as she started writing on the top of her page. What could she possibly be writing?

"Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked. I meant to simply stay inquisitive, but instead I became harsh, demanding an answer.

She shook her head, "No. No of course not…"

I frowned, changing my tone. "They all do," I sounded defeated, but I guess essentially I was. They all thought I was crazy out there, and I couldn't control it. I wanted so desperately to be more than just Finnick's mad lover but I couldn't ever escape from my mind.

"Why do you think that?" Jacobs asked. It was like an interview with Caesar but without all the hokey smiles and bad puns.

"Does my three minutes start here?"

"Sure," Jacobs' smile was reassuring. If she wasn't my doctor I might have trusted her more. But, like she asked me, I rambled on for as long as I could think.

"They look at me…like I'm different," I said, spouting off discontinued thoughts, uncensored and babbling, "They walk on eggshells around me. They watch their words. Am I really crazy though? I must seem crazy. Like I've gone and lost my mind. It's possible. They wanted me to, you know? They wanted me to lose my mind. Every rant, every bruise, every non sequitur, they reveled in. It's like they liked watching me squirm." I breathed, letting my mind steadily dwell back on those months in captivity.

"What did they do to you?"

I frowned, biting my lip, "Everyone asks that," I told her quietly, "They rarely hurt me. I hurt myself," I told her. There was the sound of her scribbling her notes, "I don't know when it happened," I admitted. "I just have bruises to prove it. I can't describe it. Things would just…they would just set me off. Sometimes they still do. And it's always little things. Just tiny noises or images…I don't know." I tried thinking of the few examples I had. It was mostly anything pertaining to Finnick. Sometimes I didn't know if he was theirs or mine. Sometimes it would be events with my family…but I never would know what really happened to them. Just that they were gone, and sometimes I wished I were too. "It's like my mind shuts down and another person takes over, not Annie, not me, just some other person…an intelligent pseudo form of me. One that just sputters things out…I don't know."

"Is it better here in Thirteen?" Her voice was cool and practiced which calmed me more than I expected.

I nodded. "Yes. Of course. I'm not alone and tormented with things I can hardly remember," I said with a small smirk.

"What did you not remember that you're gaining back now?"

"A lot," I breathed, "Finnick's had to remind me…like my Games. I can only recall the crowning. I vaguely remember Thomas. I know my mother…I know my mother through the literature I can recite. But everything else…everything else seems so surreal." I explained, interlocking my hands, twisting the gold band around my ring finger.

Jacobs was writing a lot now, "Describe your childhood."

I frowned. It took me a few minutes to gather my thoughts. I didn't remember a lot of it. I actually never mentioned my childhood to anyone. No one asked I guess. It ended the day Finnick was reaped in the 65th Hunger Games. I started tentatively, "Well, I grew up in Four. I spent a lot of time in the water. My dad worked on the boats, but I never went out there…my mother didn't like me out there. The water was too choppy," I told her recalling the cold waves. I missed them so much now.

"Instead, we'd sit by the shore and make nets. She'd read to me or recite poetry because she said I needed to be well read and schools were useless," I said with a mourning smile, I missed my mother so much. I wondered if she'd be proud of what I've become. "I didn't have many friends. Just one…Kelsey, we went our separate ways though. I spent most of my time at home I guess. We worked on music and art. Then we played on the beach. I miss the beach. Sometimes I would see Thomas Reed and he would skip rocks with me…but he would always run off with Finnick, so we were never close." I said, letting my thoughts drift to the two boys laughing, creating mischief in the square. I would usually see them and all their troubles out of the window of my mother's old shop.

"Where was Finnick?" Jacobs' voice was distant now as I focused on my past.

I shook my head, "We didn't know each other then." I answered airily.

"What was life like with Finnick?" She asked, redirecting my focus.

"Different," I answered quietly. "Awful at first…absolutely. Then perfect. But we never really had happiness. This might be the first time. I don't know. We're masochists, I guess." I told her. My lips folded in and my eyes watched the ceiling. I didn't have much faith in that though. In moments, it felt like Finnick and I had forever to complete whatever we wanted to, to live in whatever poor promises we had made once. But we both knew that forever comes and goes for us.

"What are your doubts?"

I sighed, letting my mind spiel inner thoughts and feelings to her, "I feel like at any moment someone's going to march in and take him away from me," I breathed quietly. The lines across my forehead deepened. "I feel like there's some unfortunate end to us looming…just looming. It's waiting for things to be perfect between us and then whatever controls our destiny…just snatches all of it away from us…" My voice trailed and I didn't try to edit my worries in front of her. Let her analyze it all, I decided.

"What's your biggest fear?" She asked, pulling for more. "Are you afraid of losing Finnick?"

I almost laughed. "No. Surprisingly. You can't be afraid of something you already lost." Leaning back in my chair, I looked back to my bruised hands, still healing from the wringing I put on them. "I don't know. All of my big fears have already played out, haven't they? It's just doubt now. I'm a cynic." I admitted under my breath. "I'm not crazy, am I?" I asked, looking up to her. My eyes were wide as I waited for the verdict.

Doctor Jacobs shook her head, skimming her notes and finally placing the pen and clipboard aside, "No. I don't think you are, just a little unsure of things as of right now. But that's normal…you've faced a lot of trauma in the past few years Annie." She told me. There was a raw honesty in her voice, and sympathy…but it wasn't like the others who just seemed uncomfortable when they sent their apologies, it was sincere. "Do you ever fall back into the Annie from the Capitol?" Her eyes narrowed in, waiting for my response.

I nodded shortly, "Sometimes. …Well, often." I admitted, raising my eyebrows at my own misspeak. "But it's all in my mind. I don't ramble as much."

"How do you get free of those thoughts?" She leaned in, propping her chin on her palm. It really was an interview.

"Finnick."

She looked concerned, but then composed, reading into my answers. "Just the thought of him?"

I frowned, "No. Whenever he reminds me of District Four," I explained. "Sometimes just silly things he says, or a song…but he just whispers little facts to me that I will try to remember, it gives me focus, I guess."

She nodded with a reassuring smile, like I had finally said something right. "Impressive," She said, then looked to the clock hanging on the wall. The one detail I had missed. "Well, Ms. Cresta, it looks like your time is up."

I smiled, "So it seems. Thank you Doctor." I said, lifting myself from the chair.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said, shaking my hand.

It was a meeting I hadn't intended, they only enforced I see her twice a week and this had been my second session. "I'll see you next week," I corrected her.

She smiled, lifting an eyebrow, peering at me over her square frames, "Ms. Cresta?" She said with a testing tone.

"I'll see you next week." I repeated.

It was a relief to leave that room. Unfortunately, all of District Thirteen looked the same. I walked the halls back to the compartment they assigned to me. "There she is! There's my girl," Finnick greeted me. He was sitting at the small kitchen table, looking up from a book.

"Hello my love," I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "What are you reading?"

He smiled, looking over the book, "I'm not sure," He chuckled. "How was it?" He asked as I sat down.

I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, "Just reminiscing," I answered airily, watching him with a small smile on my lips.

He smirked, "Dear memories with your doctor? Should I be jealous?" He asked, lifting his brow. His sea-green eyes flashed with mischief.

I shook my head, "Wasting all of that pent up energy on jealousy? Shame Mr. Odair, absolute shame."

Finnick put his book down and stood up. He reached behind me draping his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder, "What else am I going to do with myself? They only allow us to do so much…what with our health." He kissed my cheek then walked over to the bed and fell against it.

I laughed, "Our health? Surely, we're in top physical condition! With our scattered minds and emaciated bodies, you think we're unfit to carry out war plans?" I asked, as I turned to face him. It was a joke between us, but often a depressing reminder. If we weren't prisoners of an army, we were prisoners of our own weariness. If only we had the fresh sea air of District Four...

Finnick smiled his shy, dazzling smile, "Come here," He commanded. I walked over to him slowly. When I was only inches from him, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his arms. He hugged me tightly, "I've missed this," He said, kissing me on the cheek. "You know what's been bothering me?"

I smiled, draping my legs over his lap, "What?"

He leaned against the wall the bed was propped against, with me against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Everyone always calls you Ms. Cresta," He said, twisting my left hand around in his.

"Really?" I asked in pretend shock. "The nerve of them, to call me by my name," I giggled.

Finnick smiled, but seemed to be more focused on my hand, "And you have that ring on your finger…" He let his voice trail and looked at me kissing the back of my hand.

A pang of sadness shocked through me, "Finnick Odair, are you saying you still want to marry me?"

He shook his head, "Oh, no ma'am, I just meant the ring looks like it's too loose and should be refitted, my aren't you forward." He said rolling his eyes, along with a sardonic smirk.

I frowned, "Was that a 'yes'?" I asked with a small confused smile.

He shrugged, chuckling, "Who's going to stop us?"

But his nonchalance only worried me further. "Other than me?" I asked a little frustrated with his second proposal.

Finnick stopped joking, "How would you stop us?"

"I'm crazy," I stated plainly with a small, hollow laugh.

Finn frowned with his brow furrowed deeply, "Annie…" He started.

"Seriously. I'm unstable and there are moments when I can't control my thoughts…" I started babbling.

But he stopped me, "I'm no better off." He said with a nervous, almost outraged smile, as if he didn't know what else to do.

"Yes you are Finn," I told him, climbing out of his arms. "You haven't seen me at my worst." I shook my head and walked back to the table. I looked to the book, turning it around in my hands.

It was a book on the history of Thirteen. Before I could open it, Finnick took it from my hands and placed it back on the table. He gently grabbed my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead, "I told you I'd always love you…forever. I meant it when I said it. Nothing's changed that," His smile was more outstanding each time he beamed. Finnick ran his hands through my hair, studying me. He did more of that these days. "You're too perfect to never be happy." He told me.

Guilt encased me. He deserved more than me…he really did. "You're too good to me and you know I love you so much and I just want you to be happy…which is why I don't want you to make decisions you might regret," I whispered. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

He grinned with a determined seriousness, "I've never been more sure of anything."

And although I wanted to, I couldn't smile back. I forced him to look at me instead of over me, instead of searching me. I made him watch my eyes so he'd understand the severity of our situation, "What if I don't get better Finn? What if I get worse?"

He shook his head, still smiling even though it was significantly dimmed, "You said you'd come back to me…You've always waited for me, I'll wait for you." He watched me fearlessly. He wasn't concerned about our bad luck. He had no doubt…He was convinced this was finally a safe love. And regardless of my doubts, I took that promise.


	39. I'm Yours

I'm so sorry about the delay! Between exam week and rewrites, things got hectic there for a second, but everything's under control. Crisis adverted. Phew! So, after all that's been said, hope you enjoy! Happy Reading!

**I'm Yours: **The Script.

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><p>"It doesn't have to be extravagant…really," I insisted. Finnick sat beside me, holding my hand, Pluctarch was pacing in front of us. The conference room was probably the nicest Thirteen had to offer.<p>

It stole a lot of my focus, but he regained it. "Nonsense!" He clapped, "We're going to throw you the greatest wedding District Thirteen's ever seen." He announced heartily, throwing his hands to the air as if it were some great feat, hosting a wedding.

Finnick chuckled, rubbing the back of my hand, "Somehow, Plutarch, I don't think you'll have to overexert yourself on that. In having guests attend our wedding, I'm sure you've already outdone every expectation of Thirteen." I giggled, as Finnick seemed to become intrigued with my fingers, as to avoid Plutarch's gaze of annoyance.

Trying to diffuse the situation, "Really Plutarch, there's no sense in upsetting Coin," I still had the smile on my face. Asking for a wedding, was simply our way of acknowledging that Finnick and I would be married within the month. What they planned on doing with that information was up to them entirely…Coin and Plutarch thought it would benefit everyone to exploit it for a propaganda shoot.

Plutarch shook his head, taking a seat in front of us at the oak table. "Oh but Annie my dear, this is more than just a wedding. You two mean something now to the rebels." He told us, with as much sincerity as I'm sure he could muster.

"We do?" Finnick asked, raising an eyebrow.

Plutarch looked offended that Finnick even questioned our importance. "Of course! The two of you, one a heartthrob of the Capitol, the other the mad girl from District Four. Both at one point in time sought out beauties crumbling before the world because of a cruel Capitol… and now, you two can finally be happy and celebrate your love in marital bliss in peace."

"Well, that's a new perspective I suppose." It was a beautiful spin on our tale, truth be told, I like how he persuaded us. Finnick wasn't too fond to have our wedding played out like another political message, but in the end, Plutarch won us both over. We agreed though…our lives would never be completely private, and a wedding did sound more appealing than signing forms.

"So you'll be ok, going with Katniss?" Finnick asked during our reflection time. He should have been in his compartment, but he never really was one for rules.

He was fumbling with some supplies we had stolen from the education center. "It'll be fine," I assured him. "She seems nice." I smiled trying to focus on what I was supposed to be doing, which at the time was cleaning. It wouldn't be long now.

"She's ok." He muttered, sitting down at the small table.

He smiled a little when I scolded him, "Be nice." I laughed, still trying to focus. My mind was scattered.

Finnick shrugged, "That was me being nice." He starts sketching out a poor drawing of rebel leaders, one of Coin, which was a little crass. I grinned, reminding him to not waste. He crumpled the sheet up and threw it to the ground, lifting his brow.

I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "I'm so excited," I whispered in his ear.

He bent down to kiss me on the cheek. "Me too…" He whispered back with a charming humor I had missed. "So, you _do_ want this?" He asked, watching me with caution.

I nodded, "Yeah…why not go public, right?" I smiled. "Plutarch was right, whether we want to agree with him or not, they can't make us hide anymore." I kissed Finnick, pushing my hands through his auburn hair.

He grinned brightly, kissing me again and then spinning me into his arms. "I'm excited to see what she dresses you up in." He laughed, looking me over.

I blushed furiously, still shy of my fiancé. In two days, we'd be married. A bell rang, meaning we were to move on to our next event, I escorted him to the hallway, "I'll see you soon, Mr. Odair." I told him, sneaking him out of the room like we were young lovers.

He kissed me quickly, "Goodbye Ms. Cresta." He said with a bow and a wink. I closed the door, sinking behind it. Although, we both knew there wouldn't be much of a change after our exchanging vows, just the idea of finally vocalizing our promises to an audience seemed to fuel our nerves. The dress was the final touch.

The hovercraft ride to District Twelve, the next day, was hazy. I don't remember a lot of Katniss' conversation and mine. I'm not really sure we had any, if we did, I was trapped in my own mind. The attacks hadn't been as frequent as they once were, but to have them at all was too often for my liking.

Katniss and her prep team pushed several dresses at me, having me model each of them. Some were a variety of colors, but I had mostly been trying on the old wedding dresses Katniss had stored away in the depths of her closet. "Oh, Annie…that looks beautiful." They all cooed as I walked out in another long, white dress.

"They all do." I said, timidly. Katniss had such a harsh look on her face, I didn't know if it bothered her, the dresses they had me try on, or if she just felt uncomfortable.

"Would you like the white one?" She asked at one point.

I fidgeted in the gown. "Actually, in Four we usually wear white to funerals." I finally admitted.

Katniss smirked a little, she seemed to be easing up a bit as we talked, "I guess that wouldn't be fitting then."

"Not quite," I smiled warmly.

Her prep team left us to search the closets again, rolling the in lavish fabrics. "What do you wear at weddings?" Katniss asked, sitting down beside me. She pulled her legs into her chest and looked up at me.

I grinned, sitting down beside her, careful not to wrinkle or damage the dress, "Usually something bright, oceanic." I described, and she smiled at me. "My mother wore a really pretty green dress to hers." I told her.

Her gray eyes lit up and she snapped up, letting her legs hit the floor. "I think I have one in mind," She said, running to the back of the closet. "Here," Katniss handed me a radiant gown. It was a silk dress, a darker shade of mint green. The sleeves fell off the shoulder. There was a cutout in the fabric where the back should have been. Buttons lined my back, to the end where they met a slit. Within the slit was a train of tulle that trailed behind me. The detail within the dress is what amazed me, more than the color, which matched perfectly to the color of my mother's. Embroidered on the dress were soft gold tendrils designed to accentuate the dress in natural lighting. Something about it seemed familiar.

She ushered me to try it on and assembled her prep team for their opinion. I walked out in the gown; it was a little loose since she was a smidge bigger than I was. It was the perfect dress. "Katniss…this is…this is exquisite," I breathed as I watched my reflection in the tall mirror hanging on the wall. A small smile crossed my lips. It was like the dress I wore to Finnick's reaping. It was like the soft, green cotton dress my mother had adored. Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of her and Papa. I missed them.

She beamed, "It looks great on you." Her prep team applauded, agreeing and chattering over how to fix my hair and nails.

"You're sure you're ok with me borrowing it?" I asked shyly, clutching to the bodice.

Katniss looked surprised, "Borrowing it?" She repeated, shaking her head. "Take it. Its designer would want you to have it…"

"I couldn't…" I said frowning. It was so exquisite.

But she insisted with a kind smile, "I have others. Keep it."

"Thank you," I whispered, pulling her into a hug. We didn't speak much on the way back to Thirteen. It was late, I assumed she was tired.

"He really loves you," She said eventually. Everyone else was asleep. It was just the two of us now, alone with our thoughts.

I didn't speak for a few minutes, "I'm sorry about Peeta …" I told her quietly. There wasn't much for me to say. What could I tell her about Finnick, that I'm sure she either didn't know, or didn't want to know? What could I tell her about me? Or Peeta? Essentially nothing, but there was something to be said. I remembered being her age, scared of what Finnick was becoming, angry that I wanted him and couldn't have him, impatient with him. So, I offered her what I could. "He's still there; you just have to find him."

"Like you found Finnick?" She asked me quietly in the darkness.

I shook my head, "Like he found me," I told her.

A small ray of light emitted from the pilot box, shining on her discouraged frown, "I don't think he's going to find me." She said, dejected.

I smiled softly, my thoughts swarming again. Thoughts of Finnick and Peeta were slowly pulling me back to my isolations and attacks. "You know, I didn't want to marry Finnick." I said, airily, focusing on the dress hanging from the rafters of the hovercraft.

"Why?" She asked me.

I was slowly leaving our discussion, "It honestly, seemed pointless."

But Katniss continued to pursue the conversation. "So, why are you marrying him?" She asked, still frustrated, but attempting friendly exchanges.

I smiled, returning back to her, "Because it'll make him happy, and this is something we needed. Katniss, life with Finnick hasn't been easy. We fought always. We never saw each other, and when we did, we were always in hiding. It was tough, but we never gave up." I explained.

She was dejected, sinking down in her chair, "Peeta and me…that's hopeless." She said with a cold, hollow chuckle.

She loved him and it was obvious. It was breaking her. "Do you love him?" I asked her quietly.

"I think I do." She said, uncertainly.

I pattered her hand, "Then don't give up on him," I told her with a reassuring smile, "Don't fall apart…It's a terrible process, trying to pull yourself back together." I said, succumbing to sleep.

"You and Finnick are perfect for each other." It was the last thing she said to me that night. There was something comforting about her voice. I didn't worry about her. He would come back for her. I knew Peeta. I fell into a sleep, with dreams of Finnick. It wouldn't be long now.

…

They set our wedding up in the rubble of District Thirteen. The gray scenery was covered in dried autumn leaves, colorful decorations and nets…there were a lot of nets. Someone gathered a few things from District Four, like the torches and candles and placed them at the front of the hall where the altar was. It was nice. Annie would like it.

I stood at the altar where Dalton from District Ten, our minister, would occasionally whisper to me. Three hundred people showed up to see us tie our last knot. The waiting was torture. The music began and my heart drummed against my chest. There she was, wrapped in a long green dress that just fell off her shoulders. Her long dark hair flowed like waves down her back. The sun was setting on her, emitting rays of gold and orange from her sides. There was a halo of dried flowers placed in her hair like on the day of her reaping and her victory. She smiled at me and my heart stopped. She was beautiful, beyond her radiance of any normal day. Annie Cresta, a fisherman's daughter, the only girl I've ever loved was only a few steps away from being mine. She approached me; her deep green eyes were sparkling. She didn't stop smiling. "Hi Annie," I grinned, taking her hands in mine.

"Hi Finn." My heart beat faster when she said my name. I couldn't stop smiling at her.

The ceremony started. "You look beautiful," I whispered to her.

Dalton greeted our spectators, some close friends, others unknown. "We are gathered here today to celebrate not only a love that inspired our broken districts but also the lives of these two people, proof that there is love that never ceases, never quits fighting, and a love that is forever gentle and patient." He looked to Annie and smiled, then to me. "The vows," He said, to me with a joyous smile.

I nodded, turning from him and back to Annie, I squeezed her hand in mine. "I, Finnick Jonah Odair," I started, bowing my head, picking up one end of a woven net made by some citizens of Thirteen, and then looking back to her, "vow to love you, Annie Emile Cresta, forever." The way she smiled at me, her eyes focused on me, "I promise to pursue you every day, to find you when you're lost, to hold you when you're alone, to mend you when you're broken, to remind you when things get hazy," I said, pushing her hair behind her ear. "...I promise to fiercely treasure you now and forever. I promise to be yours and only yours, forever and ever till death do us part." Annie's grin could destroy me. She was perfection. I tucked the end of the net around her shoulders. Her green eyes locked on me, and it almost seemed like it was only us. Dalton had me light a candle and place it on the altar in front of us, then he looked to Annie.

She grinned again, her coral colored lips, soft and full, perfectly framing her dazzling, pure smile. "I, Annie Emile Cresta," She picked up the other end of the net, letting her fingers run through it, "vow to love you, Finnick Jonah Odair, forever." Her soft voice was clear and comforting. The dimples in her cheeks gave her the perfect innocence I'd always adored. "I promise to fight for us every day," She said in seriousness, but her beautiful grin never left. "…To encourage your love of life, to love you with patience and tenderness, to wait for you when you feel like the world moved on, and to love you with all my heart and remind you when life gets to be too much." She watched me, her eyes full of honesty. I wanted to kiss her there. "I promise to be yours and only yours, forever and ever till death do us part." She placed her end of the net around me, then took my hands in hers. Dalton had her light a candle as well.

With the two flickering lights, we lit a united flame. Then as instructed, we dipped our first three fingers in a wine glass full of salt water, touching them to each other's lips, like our district celebrated. She giggled as the wedding song began to play, "The Valley of the Anchor." I sang to her, and she to me. I could hear the sweet piano usually used to perform the song. _Tides sail smooth, tides be rough, the ship be strong, lest storm's too tough. For better, for worse, the Captain sang, I'll follow my voyage, she calls out my name. _With that, we were pronounced man and wife. The crowd chanted for a kiss. And kiss her, I did.

Celebrating with Annie, dancing with Annie, laughing with Annie, all moments I couldn't ever describe to the fullest of their perfection. Annie was forever mine. Annie was so gentle. It was the way she greeted and thanked our guests. Or the way she touched my face. Her lithe fingers never sought out greedily, but passionately, lovingly. She had a laugh that could inspire angels in Heaven to smile. Her smile was infectious and everyone found something to love about her. She was perfect. They way she lit up when they brought out the wedding cake, how she chimed and cooed over its beauty. The way she danced, even the way she lost herself there was beauty in it. "Darling," I would whisper when she became unraveled. "Come home to me." I would tell her and soon she would talk again. Usually about something pleasant or funny, or she would point out details of something that I hadn't noticed.

That night, as she pushed her tired body on throughout the greetings, as she forced her tired mind to stay with me, I remembered the truth of my Annie. Her beauty was enticing, her kindness was endearing, but her love would always come and go, like mine. I didn't choose to love Annie because of those things, I wasn't foolish enough to believe _love_ (an emotion) would fuel us forever. Pursuing Annie didn't wholly rely on those shallow details, but it was because she always chose to love me. Even when I ran from her, even when she was exhausted and broken, she loved me. I was taken back to the night when I first knew. Her pale blue nightgown, her wavy hair, the weariness in her eyes, all of that, less than beautiful in her perspective, but the fact that none of that stopped her from seeing me… the fact that she sacrificed so much as time went, because she chose me. We were all each other had. "Finn?" She asked, looking up to me as the celebration dwindled down. Night fell, leaving us surrounded in candlelight, strings of lanterns, and stars.

"Yes my love?" I asked. She was stunning. Her tiny body curved into me as I wrapped my arm tightly around her. It was time to go. I stood her up and we said our last goodbyes and thank yous, received our last congratulatory handshakes, hugs, and kisses and were left alone to walk back to our new compartment. She swayed a little, overcome with weariness. I picked her up, cradling her in my arms.

"I love you," She whispered. I'll never understand why she chose me, but I can't explain how grateful I am she did. I looked at her beautiful peace as she leaned against my chest. I chose her because she chose me…but because I knew how unbearable being without her truly was.

I kissed her on the forehead, "I love you too," I told her. Forever I was hers.


	40. The Fighter

Sorry for the delay in updating. I've been preparing for the upcoming chapters, which are going to be...emotional.

PROMO: also i've read some really awesome stories lately that people have sent me and here are some awesome ones: _"Welcome to the 78th Annual Hunger Games."_ by: mocking-potter, _"Snow is Falling"_ by: Mockingfire, and _"Me and My Friends"_ by: Norma Jean the Dancing Machine. I've read a lot of other really great stories, but those are the ones fresh on my mind. :)

Alright well, you've waited long enough (unless you skipped this part then you didn't wait as long as those who read this note) so ENJOY! and Happy Reading :)

**The Fighter: The Fray. **

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><p>We were foolish to think things would be easier. Finnick was so good to me, but I kept finding myself falling into my own darkness. Simpler things often triggered it, but Finn was patient. He often brought me back with stories he'd make up, silly ones, usually about home, fables the sailors told with mermaids and the underwater cities. He would help me rationalize, then seal my sanity with a kiss. But sometimes it was the kiss stealing away his peace. He still thought about the other women, but he refused to stay away from me. That's when we both came back, in the sanctity of belonging to each other.<p>

"What did they do to you?" He asked me one night. The dark of our compartment hid the fear in my eyes. I had been rambling, humming the old wedding song. Sometimes I would whisper the tale about the man in the clouds. He would float high above us, never say a word, just reach for his lover and wait for her to come home. But his lover was the woman of the ocean…she was restless and would never come home. Finnick would try to calm me. He held me and whispered stories of our past to me, waiting until I came back, but that night our love didn't suffice.

I was still lost. "They didn't touch me." I croaked when I came to, trembling in his arms.

He stroked my hair, "Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head, the past was shrouded with veils of mindless mutterings and stories of nonsense. "I don't remember," I whispered._There's a man in the clouds, and he lives in a dream.__He searches for her, the woman of the sea. _"...be strong," I muttered mindlessly, trying to come back to him. I held his face, beautiful.

He frowned, the handsome man. But his frown was replaced with a small smile. "Yes Annie." He kept his arms tight around me, eyes longing for me. I knew I had to get back. Something told me to run back.

I reached up and touched his face and he became very still, "Are you my Finnick, or theirs?"

"Yours," He told me, his voice was straining, eyes staring. He looked troubled, his sea green eyes darkening.

I touched his chest, then his neck, then his face, my eyes focusing, unfocused, "So this is all real?"

The handsome Finnick, my handsome Finnick, grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips, "Yes my love."

"Do you love me?" I asked, searching his face. The woman of the sea was slowly fading away. His gaze could intrigue Desdemona. His touch could hold down Juliet's flittering heart. His kiss could revive Ophelia. Easy, simplistic victories…his defeat was in finding me. The lost can't save the lost.

He pulled me into him, "With all my heart." He said, kissing me on the lips.

I let my fingers trail over the planes of his face and his lips, "And I love you?" I asked him quietly. Yes. Yes I did. It was coming back, slowly. _He was the man in the clouds, crying for her, but she was hiding in the water. _

He smiled, kissing me again. "Yes." It was real. Finnick held my face in his hands, "Waiting for the woman of the sea." He said, kissing me over and over.

I came back.

But I wasn't here forever. I couldn't stay. No matter how desperate I was to stay with Finnick, my old Finnick that was finally here with me, I couldn't. But he never let me go, even when I was in another world, he held my hand. Some days it was, at least, easier to come home to him. It made him happy when I could stay longer, when it was easier for me to stay, when I was the girl he remembered. "Hello, Mr. Odair." I said, in the hallway when we walked through the hallways to the dining hall.

He grinned, gripping my hand tighter, "Hello Mrs. Odair." He stopped our steady pace and kissed me.

I laughed at his gumption. The citizens of Thirteen didn't appreciate our affection, especially when it stopped the flow of traffic. I missed him. I missed making him smile. These days I only caught him grinning when I recognized him for longer than an hour. "Don't let my husband see you…jealous type." I muttered, kissing him again.

Finnick's deep laugh echoed. He led me through the food line and then to a table, meeting a small group of people he seemed to know. Eventually Katniss appeared with Gale, the boy who saved me. I didn't speak much around them. I let Finn tell his stories, giggled when I fell back into memories of swimming in District Four. He told my favorite one. We were out by the ocean one afternoon and he took my hat, running away with it. I chased him into the water where I collided into him. He swam off, floating farther away from me. "Finnick come back here!" I called, giggling. He shook his head, telling me to come get him. He was confident nothing would catch him, until a sea turtle swam right up and snatched the hat from him. I laughed, with the rest of our table. He was so charming around them.

It wasn't until I saw the faces of Johanna and Peeta, I slipped into another dark spell. Peeta approached the table last, and there was a great amount of tension looming in the air. "Sure he can sit here. We're old friends," Johanna announced when the guards escorted Peeta to our table. "Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams." She said brashly.

I was too. And soon, it was all I could hear. I wanted to return but Peeta's screaming for help and Johanna being tortured devoured my safe thoughts. I was back in the Capitol and I couldn't leave. I was naked on the dirty floor, waiting, just waiting for them to kill me. Part of me would plead for them, begging them for their safety, but the other part of me was trapped in a much darker cell.

"Remember how much you loved staring up at the stars?" His voice invaded my thoughts. "How you loved hearing the waves break," Ripping through the depths of my twisted daydreams, "You listened to me talk for hours, but I knew you always loved the silence more," His soft muttering pushed me back to childhood. "You and your mom used to hide in the dunes and marshes, it was a game you played," He told me. I saw the woman. Tall, slender, long, dark, flowing hair…she had the prettiest smile, calling for me, pulling me from the tall waving dunes. "You have a beautiful singing voice. You used to wear white flowers in your hair…" There he was. "There you are," He whispered with a small smile.

"Annie, did you know it was Peeta who decorated your wedding cake? Back home, his family ran the bakery and he did all the icing," Delly's voice chimed. I was back in Thirteen. I could see and hear them clearly.

I looked to Johanna, she was safe, and then to Peeta, who past the old bruises and scars, was also safe. "Thank you, Peeta." I told him with a small smile, "It was beautiful."

Peeta's familiar smile returned, "My pleasure, Annie." His voice was gentle, like it used to be. Maybe he was back too.

Finnick reached around and pushed my hair from my eyes. He studied my face and smiled, reassured and relieved, "If we're going to fit in that walk, we better go." I nodded with another tiny smile and placed my hand in his. Finnick takes our trays and then leads me from the table. "Good seeing you, Peeta," He says in good nature.

"You be nice to her, Finnick," Peeta told him, watching me with a new intensity, "Or I might try and take her away from you." He smirked, all goodness gone from his smile. Finnick pulled me closer to him.

Although he said it with a light tone, I knew Finnick was enraged, "Oh Peeta, don't make me sorry I restarted your heart." He didn't say anymore on the subject and neither did Peeta. Instead, he focused on me. We were safe for now. Things were becoming clearer. We were going back to normal, until news of storming the Capitol spread across Thirteen. My heart sank at the rumors.

"You're different." I told Finnick when we walked around the halls of the District.

He seemed confused, but carefree still. "How so, my love?" He asked, swinging our arms leisurely. We were almost at our compartment for Reflection hour.

"Things are different with you…you're not telling me something." I said in a quiet voice. I opened the door to our small, temporary home.

Finnick shrugged, "Don't be silly." He smiled, grabbing a small book he usually scribbled in from its normal spot on top of the government issued dresser. He sat on the bed, leafed through it and ignored me.

I sat down beside him, "Finnick, don't do this… tell me, what are you hiding?" I begged, grabbing his shoulder…but I already knew.

He looked up from his book and then at me with a blank, innocent stare, "Nothing darling." He said, putting the book back.

"Finnick…" I stared at him disbelievingly.

He didn't rush over to me; instead, he roamed the compartment, scanning over details. "Annie, you're being paranoid," He muttered.

I shook my head, becoming angry, "No. You're not telling me something Finnick, come on, I know you better." I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible.

Finn looked at me, but this time with a lie swimming in his eyes, "Annie, I swear…"

"Don't do this! Don't do this to me Finnick!" I shouted, furious now.

But Finnick didn't budge, "Annie, you're being crazy." He snapped. We were quiet for a long time, as he slowly understood the impact of his words, "No…Ann…" He stammered.

I glared at him, taken aback, anger turning to tears. The demons of my mind laughing, rejoicing as the last person I loved saw what the world saw in me…nothing except insanity. "Now I'm crazy to you too, my love?" I asked softly.

Finnick shook his head, walking towards me, "You know that's not how I meant it." He said, reaching out to me, but I dodged him.

"No, I don't know that anymore Finn. I don't know anything right now," I said sitting on the edge of the bed. Images of the room were morphing into the walls of my cell. The voices were laughing at me, as they listed the names of people who were ready to go, people who were already gone. They laughed and I was reminded I was the mad girl from District Four. Poor mad girl. Finnick would never truly be mine, they told me. I shook my head. It wasn't real. _What wasn't real? Them? Or him? Or all of it? _"It's all so confusing." I told him quietly.

Finnick sat down beside me and silence slowly began to overpower the devil that inhabited my mind. "Annie, I love you." He said, placing his hand atop of mine, "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're tired." He explained quietly. Then he looked at me with sad, weary eyes. There was a glimmer of hope in the sea of green. "That's real." Handsome, but so tired, so worn down, Finnick was. His bronze hair was always tangled. His usually golden tan skin became pale and lucid. His sea green eyes, dark, weighed down by the sleepless nights. Handsome even in the confinements of Thirteen, but misery had taken its fair toll.

I watched him with a broken heart, "You're going with them…to fight, aren't you?" I asked quietly.

Finnick's look of concern became a look of terror. "Who…? H-how did you-?" He stammered.

"Did you really think I'd never find out?" I muttered, turning away from him.

"Annie, I was going to tell you."

I shook my head. It was insulting how foolish he thought I was, "No you weren't." I knew Finnick. He wouldn't tell me. It was another way to protect me. He wouldn't save me this time. "What were you going to do Finn? Just leave me here, waiting for my missing husband? Leave me here and let me wait to hear that you're dead. Wait, so they can bring you back to me in a box?" I asked quietly, body shaking with internalizing rage.

He seemed speechless. "Annie, it's not like that this time. I have to go." He said, grabbing my hands.

"Why?" I snapped, pushing him away from me. "They need you again?"

This was one of our worst arguments. "Yes!" He shouted desperately. "They need me and I want to go. Annie, I have to fight. I have to." He held my face in his hands focusing only on me, "This is my last redeeming shot. I should have protected you better. I know what they did to you. I know how it felt to watch me not come back all those years…to wait for me," His eyes frantically searched mine, "Snow has to be stopped…he has to be killed. You didn't deserve what happened to you! You didn't deserve any of that! Neither did your parents! Neither did mine! Don't you want justice?" His voice was broken, his hope crushed, and his pleas strained.

I shook my head. "No. I just want you. That's all." I forced myself to make eye contact. I wasn't weak anymore.

"You have me Annie, forever. I'm yours, I'm all yours…but I have to do this. For us," He pleaded. I hated fighting with him. I hated the thought of him leaving, but like me, like when we were younger, he couldn't stay. So I would wait. "I'm coming home. I promise." I touched his face, taking in every feature, every perfection, every imperfection. My sweet husband. My sweet love. He kissed me. He kissed me and my heart broke at the thought of waiting on nothing. But he promised to come home.

_There's a man in the clouds, and he lives in a dream. _

_He searches for her, the woman of the sea. _

_There's a man in the clouds, and he fights for his love. _

_He fights all might, but she's gone, his belove. _

_There's a man in the clouds, and with trembling lips, _

_he kisses the sea, the waves, and the ships._

_But the sky is too vast, and she knows it can be, _

_because she is trapped, bound, chained by the sea. _

_There's a man in the clouds, and he swore to come home, _

_but the sea was too cruel and left her alone. _


	41. Barely Say

This was a super tough chapter to write, so I really hope you enjoy it. It's probably the first chapter I became emotional writing but that might be because I was listening to "Take the World," by: Ascend the Hill while writing and the song has the most beautiful instrumental to it (and the lyrics are amazing) but that always gets to me. It was more religious which isn't really a theme in thg so I stuck with the fray because the fray is amazing. Ok, enough rambling...**  
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PROMO: "Wait for Me." Mockingfire. This story is amazing and I thought it should be announced to my wonderful, beautiful handful of readers. :) Happy Reading!

**I Can Barely Say: The Fray. **

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><p>It's the 76th Hunger Games. That's what this was. Only this time, Katniss was right, Snow was a player. That was the hope. This time he would be destroyed and I would go home to her…that was the goal.<p>

We spent a lot of time traveling. We were on cargo cars packed with soldiers, all worried or just trained to focus on the mission. Either way, there wasn't any talking. We were all quiet and lost in thought, giving me plenty of time to reminisce no matter how much I didn't want to. For once, my mind didn't drift to my sweet Annie who waited for me. It ran to another.

_ "Hey, Odair," _She said when I walked up to her bed in the hospital ward. My memory painted her in a way I almost wish I had distorted, but she looked weak and tired. It was different from what I was used to, but it was how she always looked now. Haymitch said she was troubled. He said she was alone, but that I knew. I remembered her struggle with the Capitol. We all did. It wasn't much different from my story or Annie's, maybe more sad.

I smiled slightly, _"Hey. How are you?" _I missed her then, even now, and regretted not talking to her as much since we've all been together in Thirteen, hopefully I can make up for that.

She rolled her eyes, then closed them, leaning back into her pillow_. "Great. I've got enough morphling to send a small rodent into comatose." _That was Johanna, always crass, negative, angry. She was completely opposite from sweet, gentle Annie, and yet I trusted both of them with my life.

I smirked._ "So I take it, that's not enough?" _I asked, lifting my brow to her.

She chuckled coolly. _"You're a smart one Odair. How's the wifey?" _Johanna asked, tapping the bag of medicine that dripped into her arm.

A question I was hoping she'd ask. Johanna wasn't heartless, no matter how she liked to portray it. I knew then my agenda was well targeted. _"She's fine I suppose," _I told her, taking a seat next to her._ "Still a little shaken?" _I asked kindly. We never had a conversation like this. It wasn't our taste. My vulnerability belonged to Annie and her only.

Johanna frowned with a cold stare._ "That's what the Capitol does to Victor's, Odair. You know that." _The ruthlessness left her eyes and the new Johanna came back.

_"That'll be over soon enough." _I told her sternly.

She bit the inside of her cheek, balling her hand into a fist. _"You're going with them aren't you? The Star Squad to the Capitol?" _There was a tremor of fear in her sardonic voice, but she didn't waver. The clearest part of the memory was how different Johanna was. Maybe that was my perspective distorting the actuality of what happened, but she was different. She was almost needy at a point, whether she'd ever admit it or not.

_"Yeah I'm sorry you couldn't go." _I told her. We all knew what this meant to her though…

She shrugged, faking indifference, like I would have. _"Yeah, you and me both, I wanted to send an axe through Snow's head…guess you'll have to do that for me with your pretty boy throw. Think you can handle that?" _She asked with another smirk, running her hands over her face. She looked up at me again and watched me quietly. I didn't speak, just glanced at the empty metal chairs on the other side of her. I had been her only visitor. _"Not going to tell her?" _She asked me finally. It broke me from my trance.

_"Not if I can help it." _I told her honestly, which I remember the guilt in the pit of my stomach, knowing that would be the worst of the secrets I've ever attempted to keep from her.

Johanna nodded though, _"Good plan. I wouldn't tell her either." _

I ran my hands through my hair, a little less than distressed. _"I should though Jo. I really should." _I knew Annie would have forgiven me if I came home, but even still…what if I don't come home?

_"You and I both know that'd be a bad idea. She's not right Finnick." _Johanna said, staring at the wall, _"She hasn't been for awhile." _Sometimes I forgot Johanna and Annie were trapped together. Sometimes I forgot Johanna had been a victim of the Capitol just like the rest of us.

_"She's not going to be ok if I don't come home from this mission," _I told her, shaking my head.

_"You'll come home." _

I shook my head, still thinking of Annie. My wording had to be careful, planning my goodbye to Annie while saying my goodbye to Johanna became difficult. They were two different people, strong in different ways…and I was asking something from both of them. _"There's really no guarantee in that." _

_"No. But I know you Odair…you always find a way out of tricky situations."_ Johanna told me, picking the dirt from her nails.

I had to ask now. _"Will you promise me something?" _Johanna looked up to me, half dazedly, half focused. _"If…If I don't come back, will you…will you please just be there for her?" _She looked uneasy. _"I'm all she has left Jo. She needs someone." _Johanna wasn't convinced, she wasn't used to Annie, or people for that matter. Johanna was alone. _"You need someone too." _

She frowned, shaking her head with a hard glare, _"I don't take care of people Odair. You know that too." _

I shook my head, thinking she misunderstood. _"You don't need to. You don't need to baby her. She's still there." _I said desperately.

_"How much of her do you think is left Finnick?" _She snapped angrily,_ "If you recall, I was there with her. She was barely holding on then and she's almost gone now. She might have been pretending before, but she's not pretending anymore Finnick. She's gone." _She said the last sentence, every syllable pronounced to a tee.

Anger and desperation briefly consumed me. It was terrifying how vulnerable we had all become, all of us weak and at the mercy of the enemy and the "friend", _"She's not! She's still here. And she needs someone! Please, I'm begging you." _

But Johanna shook her head again, _"I don't take care of people Odair." _

It was wrong to manipulate her this way, I knew Johanna better…maybe it had been my anxiety. I stood up from my cold, metal chair and began to walk away. I stopped to turn and look at her, _"Do one selfless thing, for once, maybe your life will be worth something." _I spat.

_"You take that back!"_ She roared so loud the nurses in the ward started to rush towards us. I stopped them, ushering them away with a glance and the wave of my hand.

_"Say we have a deal," _I sat back down and stared her in the eye. Her dark brown eyes were wide open and terrified, welling with tears.

_"Why don't you stay?" _She asked in a strained, angry voice.

I stared at my old friend, _"Because I'm going to destroy what broke her..." _I said with the same ferocity that Johanna was familiar. I grabbed her hand and tried to regain the unknown kindness between us, _"She's not the only one who needs a family anymore." _

She shot up, tears streaming down her face now. The feeling of guilt and regret for reminding Johanna of her past will forever haunt me. The truth of that day will always stay in my memory as I was forced to face the reality of what created the angry, fierce Johanna Mason. _"I gave away everything to try to keep them safe! When I became weak, they died. I'm weak Finnick. I don't know if you've noticed…but all the charades we put on, you, me, Annie, Haymitch, Katniss, Peeta…they used against us. They dissolved those and they've devastated us! I can't take care of her because I can't be strong for her! I can't even be strong for me." _I shouldn't have asked, but Annie needed her…and essentially, she needed Annie.

_"I just need you to be her friend Jo…Like you've been mine." _I said quietly, trying to recover from my insensitivity.

She frowned, but accepted my unsaid apology._ "You're so stupid," _She muttered bitterly._ "Don't get yourself blown up Odair." _

_"Don't murder your nurses Mason." _I quickly kissed her on the forehead._ "Just consider it. Talk to her…she's not far gone. You'll see." _

Johanna Mason's memory was with me for such a brief time. I knew she would keep her word. She had to make the promise…I couldn't have left if she hadn't. The rest of my free thoughts belonged to Annie. I replayed our last night together in my mind every second I could. When we arrived at the rebel encampment, I took my assignments, which included waiting. So we all sat around, talking some, shooting some scenes for Cressida and her crew, and thinking. There was a lot of time to think.

_"There's always a goodbye." _Her voice rang out in my mind. I could see her now. Perfect even in the dim lighting of our compartment. Her tiny frame swaddled in a white nightgown, her long dark hair, draped over her shoulders. She was beautiful. The feel of her lips, soft and gentle against mine, she was never commanding, never greedy. She was innocent and pure, unlike the Capitol women. Her touch reminded me of her goodness, kept my mind with her.

_"I know love. I'm sorry," _I told her, as I finished the last of my notes, I had written in the small journal they had supplied me as a rebel leader. I placed the book on top of the dresser like I usually do.

She sat on our bed, _"Come here," _She called quietly. I did as she said, letting myself fall into her arms. God, I miss her touch. I miss the way she ran her hands through my hair and the way she held me against her heart. She wrapped her arms tightly around me that night, and refused to leave me. Her mind was sharp. She fell down onto the bed, pulling me with her. She kissed my lips softly, letting her hand graze over my cheek,_ "I wish I could go with you." _

It was easier being away from her in the field, especially when the most we did was extra field training. I became involved with my surroundings, just to keep my mind off her. But I was there with her, back in Thirteen every moment they left me alone. It was Katniss or Boggs who usually dragged me away from the memory of my sweet Annie.

Katniss would beg me to talk to Peeta for her, to help him distinguish the real from the not real. It was my neither favorite, nor least favorite task of the mission. Peeta actually reminded me a lot of Annie, which was unfortunate because I never really liked him. It was helping him relearn what reality was and what was created to ensure his downfall that granted me a new perspective. I did the same with Annie, and she with me. Peeta was no different from the rest of us…maybe more tragic. At sixteen, he fell in love, had his life threatened, survived, and then started all over again at seventeen…but this time he lost his love, he was thrown into captivity, and he was forced into madness. I didn't much care for him, but I couldn't help but empathize with him. We were all broken now.

Focusing on Katniss and Peeta only drove me to memories of my wife, but I was on a mission and I had to focus.

"Action!" Cressida called. We carefully advanced down the smoky street. Gale struck a pod and we all took cover when a storm of bullets sweeps over us. We moved forward. The other troops laughed at the terrible acting jobs of Katniss and Mitchell. I smiled, but I'm with her.

_"I'm coming home to you Annie." _I whispered to her, supporting her hovering body. My hands wrapped around her waist, fingers pressed against her ribs. Her hands searched my face and she kissed me until she grew weary, and then collapsed against my chest.

She buried her face into my chest, her skin was smooth against mine, _"Don't make promises you can't keep Finn…please."_ She whispered in the night. She placed her lips over my heart, as a tear shed, sliding down her nose and stopping at her lips. I kissed her, tasting the ocean.

_"Shh…Shh…" _I breathed, running my fingers through her hair. She was the sweetest comfort of my soul and I hated to see her break. She stayed with me though, _"I know you don't like this…" _

A bomb rang. Boggs was down. Screams and blood spattered stones tear me from her. I ran towards Boggs and Katniss, but another explosion went off, sending me hurtling through the air. I landed on my feet, but found others not as lucky. Messalla, who slammed into a brick wall, was unconscious on the ground. He came to and prepared for the retreat. A black, oily substance started spouting out into the street. I saw it first. "Move! Move! Move!" I screamed as Jackson calls for retreat. Growing up in Four, any oil leak was lethal and threatened our way of life. We had to run. I was the fastest, even with Messalla in my arms. We invaded a house where we rushed to cover any crack in the home, to avoid fumes. "Give me that towel!" I shouted over the deafening war sounds. I found Katniss. Boggs is dead. "We need to get out of here. Now. We just set off a streetful of pods. You can bet they've got us on surveillance tapes." I told her.

After a power struggle between Jackson and Katniss, we moved on. I adjusted Peeta's mask to protect him from the poisoned air. We ransacked a row of apartments for shelter. We were found out and identified over news reports. They knew we were coming. Now it was time to hide. We were out of moves and our only suggestion came from our struggling soldier, Peeta. "Our next move…is to kill me." We tried to reassure him. We told him Mitchell's death wasn't his fault, but it's hard to bring back the pure. We camp in the apartment for only a little while. Its décor haunted me, reminding me of my past. I forced myself to go back to her, but I was trapped in regret.

_"How many times do I have to feel this?" _Annie cried, sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets wrapped around her.

Her head was in her hands, and she wept. I wrapped my arms around her, _"What darling?" _

_"The feeling of letting you go?" _She whimpered,_ "How many times do I have to imagine your death or wonder when you're coming back? Or…or say goodbye? I'm always so scared Finn…I'm so scared of losing you." _Her small hands wrapped around my face and she kissed me, this time with a different passion than the last, "_But I've never even truly had you." _

My hands enclosed around her cheeks, fingertips hooked behind her ears, _"I am yours Annie, but…" _I whispered to her. Remembering her made me regret leaving her.

And although I expected her anger, she was more accepting that night. _"But you have to go. You have to fight."_ She breathed.

_"For our future," _I said, pushing her hair back.

_"I know." _She nodded, _"Finnick, I have to tell you…" _

I stopped her, _"What happened to no goodbye confessions?" _This would be our perfect one yet. One last, perfect goodbye, we could have all of each other instead of all of my obscure promises and secrets. She could have all of me and I could have a perfect, untarnished memory of her.

A small smiled crossed her tear-stained face, _"I think we've had enough waiting…" _She said. She looked up at me, touched my face, and then kissed me again. _"I'm pregnant Finn," _She whispered to me. I will never be able to describe that feeling. My perfect wife with child, my child…the elation there…the sorrow if…

We moved on. We decided the sewer was our best option. We made good time muddling through the sewers of the Capitol. I stayed alert, but my mind would occasionally drift back to her. I missed her so much.

She nodded with a solemn smile. Her smile was breathtakingly beautiful. She was the most stunning creature I've ever come to know. She was my Annie, _"You have to fight for our future," _She commanded me. _"For our little one." _I kissed her, letting my lips sweep over her: her cheek, her nose, her lips, her jaw, her neck, her collar, her chest, and finally her stomach. I didn't want to part from her, not at all. She pulled me back to face her, focusing on my lips, _"My brave, wonderful Finnick," _She kissed me sadly, molding into me.

_"You're so beautiful,"_ I hated myself for not saying more to her, but I could barely say what I wanted. She seemed so sad,_ "Hey…" _I told her, _"This is the last time. I promise." _I kissed her letting my hands rake over her. _"I'm coming home to both of you."_ I told her, cradling her in my arms.

She laid her head against my chest; she had the sweet scent of the ocean still on her hair and skin. How I missed the ocean. _"You have to." _She said quietly. _"Finn, I love you so much." _

I held her desperately. Letting her go was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I cleaved to her, taking in her body, her touch, her laugh, her smile, her everything. I didn't want to forget a second of her. Never again. _"I love you too my darling." _I should have never left. _"More than you could ever imagine. I love you." _I held her close. Her mind was with me. Her body was with me. Finally, we could be together and I was leaving again. _"I'm coming home," _I whispered, reassuring her sanity, _"Wait for me." _

_"Always." _That was the last I heard from Annie. Her beautiful voice, her gentle touch, gone, back in Thirteen. I should have never left.

The grace period ended.


	42. Winter

**Winter: Noah Gundersen. **

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><p>It was weird not waking up next to Finnick. The bed was cold. The room was cold. The cold weather was moving in and I couldn't help but think that this would possibly be my future, my forever. But Finnick said he'd come home. He'd always come back to me. This couldn't be the exception. So, I waited. Waiting was tough.<p>

Sometimes they called me unwell. They said I was waiting on nothing. That's what they told me. Some of the citizens were hopeful though. Delly was. Johanna tried to be. They were the only company I had in District Thirteen. But even Delly fell away when I was drowning in my own thoughts. Johanna was all I had left, and why she chose to stick around me, I'd never know. She never gave me a straight answer.

The People of Thirteen were protective at least. No one would let me watch the television. They kept me away from the news. They guarded me. "He'll be back Annie." They would reassure me. And it took everything I had to believe them. Sometimes I'd fall into spells I couldn't escape. They'd call for Dr. Jacobs and when she couldn't talk sense into me, they'd sedate me. They stopped trying to force medication on me when I went into hysterics over my unborn child.

"They're going to kill my baby!" I screamed in the hospital ward, restrained. I tried to come back, but I was lost, only aware of Johanna who sat by my side.

"Shh! Shh Annie! You're safe." She told me, but I was slowly losing my mind. I couldn't go back to my compartment. I hated the small room more each day. It reminded me of him. The winter state of things chilled me to the bone and I could never find warmth. So I started spending my nights in the hospital ward in Johanna's company. She would visit me often and we would drown together in silence. At least in that, I became more stable.

When I refused to go back to my compartment, they brought the few belongings we had to me. My wedding dress was wrapped with Finnick's suit in a long white sheet. There was the old, worn rope that Finnick used to weave. I was the only one tying knots now. My ring was given back to me when they realized I couldn't hurt myself with it. And his notebook…we didn't have much. They brought me books to read from the District Library. A lot of it was about Thirteen and Panem. But some were old stories I remember. When I became bored with those and after Johanna left, I picked up Finnick's old journal. I leafed through it only to find notes on the rebellion, doodles, some little quips he found funny, some things he wanted to remember and then a small folded piece of paper addressed to me. I picked it up with trembling hands.

_I shouldn't read it. _I told myself, but my curiosity grew. It was mine after all. I unfolded the crumpled slip of paper.

"_Waste not, want not. Right?" _Was written after the first line was crossed out completely. I smiled, almost hearing Finnick's chuckle as I read on.

"_My beautiful wife, Annie, _

_I wanted to leave you something to hold to in case this mission took longer than expected. Firstly, I need you to forever remember, my heart is yours alone. __There are so many things I want to write to you…but in Thirteen you're granted only so many sheets of paper__. So, I'll tell you what I really want you to know. _

_Don't be scared, my love. I know this is terrifying, I know make promises I can't ever seem to keep…but don't be scared. You're stronger than you remember. You took the chances and made the sacrifices very few people ever do. You've loved and fought and you're going to be ok. I know you. _

_When things get hazy, remember the ocean. Go home to Four when you can. Swim and always come back to the shore. Stare up at the stars. Tell your children the stories of sailors, mermaids, of Thomas, my one true threat but last real friend, of our families, of Mags, and of me…__because this mission may take longer than expected. _

_Don't let your demons take you. Don't let them tell you I was never real. Don't let them tell you I never loved you. Because darling, there aren't enough words for me to express how much I love you, and how desperate I am for you, even when I'm right beside you. I need you to be ok. I need you to smile because I can't live without your perfect smile. _

_You're so beautiful. I can't tell you it enough. I wish I had told you more. I'll always regret that. _

_Lover, I may not come home…but __I will always think of you. You will always be my first thought in the morning and my last at night. You are the owner of my heart, the only woman I have ever and will ever love. __Leave, but__ always come back, please. Tell your children of this love, maybe not our story, but at least yours. Your never-ending, unfailing, unconditional love…I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier. _

_I still remember it. When I fell in love with you…after that night, I often found myself trying to list off reasons to ignore it, but the lists grew shorter every day and then nonexistent. Even in fighting…But that was us I guess…Our story wasn't perfect, but the way you love me is…I never deserved it. _

_I'm sorry I was so slow to admit I loved you back. Protecting you wasn't a good enough excuse…because they sent you to your death anyways. God, you didn't deserve that. You are so good. I shouldn't have left you, or I should have fought harder. _

_I'm so sorry for abandoning you. Then and now, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the times I left. I'm sorry for the things I didn't tell you and for some of the things I said. I'm sorry I ran away from you and I let you crumble in silence. You deserved more than that. You deserve more than me. So...thank you for seeing whatever you do see in me. I should be with you right now. I'm sorry for this...for breaking my promise. I'd much rather be with you, holding you in our bed than sharing a tent with eight other men. I miss you so much already, my beautiful wife. I love you dear Annie. __Don't forget me darling.__ I'll be back soon lover. _

_Love forever, _

_Your sorry husband, Finnick." _

I wept. I read it again. My tears stained the page. My heart ached for him. The winter was closing in on Thirteen, encasing my heart in cold. All things pass with time, but this was a storm that might stay with me forever. I curled up in my hospital bed wrapping the sheets tightly around me. My thoughts dwelled around him, praying for him, if there was anything to pray to. I silently begged for him to come home…for us to go home and back to the warmth and hope of the sun. But those dreams slipped away. I fell into a deep sleep, one hand clutching my stomach, the other holding my heart. I only dreamt of the ocean waves and the woman of the sea. I kept waiting.


	43. Breath of Life

**Breath of Life: Florence and the Machine.**

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><p>The fire that we had started in order to cover our tracks had died down. Snow knew we were still alive. He knew we were still after him. He knew we were underground. He had them digging. We heard. It was them calling her name. <em>"Katniss…" <em>Something called out. Mutts. We looked around frantically. Adrenaline was pulsing through my veins.

"Run!" Peeta shouted. "Get out! Go!" I was disoriented, trying to escape my dreams of her. It was now. I had to fight. I had to get back to her. I jumped to my feet, arming myself. I tossed a gun to Castor, keeping my trident close to my side and the other gun tight in my hand. We raced down the drainpipes. The hissing only became louder. They're behind us and although they're at a distance, they're moving fast. We moved swiftly, quietly, but even in our speed, we were guaranteed a sloppy escape. They could hear us, our splashing, the commands. The sounds of the mutts and their prey rang out in the pipes. They were bloodthirsty, ready to kill. Katniss, in a moment of weakness stopped, trying to save us and sacrifice herself. "We're wasting time!" I shouted. The screams stopped and her name rebounded off the walls of the sewers. The scent of roses streamed into the air. Katniss began to choke. She ran and stumbled and we found ourselves in the Transfer where delivery vehicles are stationed.

It was quiet and we were the only things in the Transfer except for the pods. Katniss shot at one and tried to run out of the way of the Meat Grinder that will surely end in all of our deaths, until she tripped up another unmarked pod. She didn't notice it. No one did.

But it was Messalla. "Katniss!" I screamed, stopping her. He was trapped in a golden beam, flesh dripping off his body. It was the most horrific sight I have ever seen, past the games, past all the deaths and Capitol scandal. We tried to save him. There were several who shrieked for him, but we had to keep our calm.

"Can't help him!" Peeta shouted, shoving both me and Katniss forward. Gale tried to shoot at it, but we had to move forward.

Gunfire stopped us this time. Peacekeepers flooded the exit of the Transfer and we were trapped. I shot back, loading and reloading. Even though they outnumbered us, we were the better shots. I threw my trident, shooting with the gun as Beetee's advanced trident took out three peacekeepers at a time. I retracted it and threw again, slaying as many as I could. More than half were down and dead in what seemed like an instant. Relief spread over me, until more flooded in. Adrenaline coursed through me. I expected gunshots to ring through, but none did. Instead, there was screaming.

These new bodies weren't peacekeepers.

Tall, human-sized lizards slithered fast across the floors, devouring man, dead or alive. We had to get above ground. We all ran. "Get out!" I heard them scream. Katniss activated the Meat Grinder. Mechanical teeth shot through the street, destroying the dead bodies and some mutts. We outran it, jumping into the sewer. We're still chased by mutts.

The smell of roses is so strong, I feel sick. "Go!" I scream telling the others to run. I start shooting, as well as Gale and Peeta, Katniss frozen in fear. "Go!" I scream at her. We outran them too, but they caught me. One dragged me down and I hit the pavement hard. I shout in a struggle to push the mutts off, but the demon creatures were stronger.

They're above ground now. "Someone's still alive!" I hear her say, but even I knew it was too late. Fire shot through my veins as the lizards bit into me. I fought some off, slipping out of their grip. But they came after me still. Their teeth tore into my back, and then my legs, and my chest. I screamed in pain, until my mind fogged over.

I'm back in Four. I see my brother Kane, waving from the small fishing boat he worked on. A smile crosses my lips. I've missed him. The silver parachutes of hope from the games drop down over him, he catches one and holds it up to show me. He claps and cheers, pointing to Mags, who is in the water smiling and laughing like the time she helped my father train me. My father and mother are standing in front a pink sky, welcoming me home. I was a victor. I can still feel the weight of Beetee's trident in my hands. My mind starts to darken, but I can still see her. She's the last thing I see. Annie, my sweet Annie in her long green dress, smiling at me. I can feel her touch. I was in Four. The sky darkened as I slipped away. I was holding Annie on our private beach. The waves crashed against the rocks, the stars smiled down on us tonight.

_Nightlock! Nightlock! Nightlock! _

Gone.


	44. Twenty Years

**Twenty Years: Augustana. **

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><p>Love stories weren't meant to blossom in the Districts. Fairytales, dreamed up for the children in the Capitol and those of the dark days. They were elaborated on for those poor people without hope and full of delusion. Those are what fairytales are made of. …Told, but not found in District Four. There are no mermaids in the sea. Only lonely fisherman with their old boats and siren songs.<p>

Two years had passed and the cloudy smog of sea salt still shrouded our afternoons only to sometimes involve the hazy sun that would only appear with a harsh heat. The angry waves that only calm after storms beat against fishing marshes and pools that we knew to swim in when safe. It was home. District Four was beautiful. I sat on the beach where I first met him. He was throwing a flimsy trident with his older brother and Thomas Reed…an old friend, savior even.

I missed him. I still dreamt about him. There wasn't a day I didn't think about him.

I still remember the day his squad came home. I looked for him. I called for him. They gave me nothing of him, they gave me nothing to console in, just apologies. I had feared that moment, afraid I would slip into a dark world and never reappear. But I held to the letter he wrote me. I had to come home. I lived on autopilot for weeks, months even. He was gone, leaving a hole in my heart that I was sure would be there for the rest of my lonely life. He was gone. I would spend my days lying in my bed, part of me still waiting. Waiting for nothing. My stomach grew, and sometimes I'd forget why. Sometimes I would have visitors. Johanna and Peeta mostly. They would try to comfort me. Peeta more than Jo. Johanna mostly sat with me in order to keep me company. She, in time, became one of my closest friends.

The only comfort in losing my love was that our lives in Panem were safe. I didn't fully appreciate that until my beautiful baby boy came into the world. "What will you name him?" Johanna asked.

I didn't know. I didn't have a name for him for two weeks. Nothing seemed right. He was so perfect though. A funny, giggling baby who only reminded me of his father each day. He was such a strong baby who rarely ever cried. "Jonah," I told her one day. "After Finnick…and like Johanna." I told her. "Jonah Thomas Odair." He was perfect. Named after three great people, it was destined he gain their bravery, their hearts. Johanna was quick to love him, and soon Jonah filled the lonely void in both of our hearts. Since his birth, I never saw the darkness again.

He was two now, almost three. He loved the ocean. Sometimes he would sit on the shore and babble stories to me. I watched him play and run after little ocean critters. He would often bring me shells shouting, "Look mommy!" whenever he thought something amazing and different.

Jonah would often play until the sunset and then he'd beg that we sit out on the front porch of my parent's old house and I tell him stories. I did, stories that sailors told of mermaids and fantastic things. I'd tell him stories of a brave boy who saved a young girl from the sea. I told him stories of the old days when children played in dark games. I told him of the boy with the trident and the girl trapped in the nets…He never asked about them, until years passed. Then he learned the real story of the boy and the girl who met in District Four. He learned the truth of his brave father and his widowed mother, and the star-crossed lovers who only knew goodbyes.

District Four changed since then. It became a better place. It was a safe place for my son, a place where he learned and thrived. He even had his own love story to tell as time passed. He was a victor's child, safe because of an accidental love that never ceased, never quit fighting, and that was forever gentle and patient.

No. Love stories weren't meant to blossom here, but ours did. Finnick was right years ago, our story wasn't perfect, but it had been worth every moment of heartache. He was mine and I was his no matter our distance. He was the man in the clouds and I was the woman in the sea…and one day I'd go home to him. Until then, I would wait.


	45. In Another Life

****If Finnick came home.

**Always: Peter Bradley Adams. **

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><p>I waited on him. I waited for several months before I could see him again. Johanna was the one who found me when they brought him back to Thirteen. They wouldn't let me see him or go to his room. I would wait outside and listen to doctors tell me good news and bad. I often sent Johanna in to tell me the truth.<p>

"_After the explosion, they found him underground, unconscious in the sewer. Jackson pulled him out and revived him. She called for backup. The mutts were destroyed in the explosion. He had just escaped them."_ Is what they told me again and again.

"Annie?" One of the attendants asked me early one morning. "Would you like to see him now?" I nodded my head, trembling in fear. She helped me from my hospital bed, supporting my over-extended back. My hands clutched my growing stomach and she walked me to his room. "Now before you go in, you must know: His vitals were severely damaged when he came back. We've kept him in a medically induced coma so he can regain his strength. His body is still healing and he may or may not remember you if he wakes up." I nodded, trying to prepare myself, promising I wouldn't get lost in my own thoughts no matter the condition he was in, even if he was barely hanging on.

I walked in the room and I saw my once beautiful husband, pale and thin. He looked as if twenty years had passed. His beautiful auburn hair was long and in tangles. His golden body had several deep cuts and gnashes. They cleaned his skin but there were still ugly yellowish, green splotches that covered his body, along with dark black and purple bruises. He had stitches along the deepest of his scars. My hands trembled, over the spots they replaced his flesh. I touched his face. He was still my Finnick. He didn't wake up for me that day. Nor the next.

In that time of waiting, both President Snow and President Coin executed for their crimes. A lot of us expected an uproar in Thirteen, but there was none. Instead, they sent us home after our son was born, calling the occasional help for our small family.

Finnick was still asleep. Instead of worrying, I let my thoughts focus on my baby. He was a beautiful baby. Finnick would adore him.

He didn't wake up for months. He wasn't strong enough to come home just yet. I waited.

…

"Wake up, sleepy…" I heard her voice chime.

My head ached. It was an illusion, a delusion, a cruel trick of my mind. I was dead. I had to be.

A figure hovered over me. Soft fingers touched my face. My eyes focused on her, the beautiful young woman with long dark hair and soft green eyes. "Annie…" I muttered. "Where am I?"

She smiled, pushing her hands through my hair. Her dark, flowing hair draped over her shoulders and fell beside me. Like the stories of mermaids who rescued dying sailors. "Home. Do you know your name?" She asked me in a quiet voice.

Her beauty was breathtaking. She was more stunning than I remember…glowing even. "Finnick Odair," I answered without hesitation.

"Where are you from Finnick Odair?" I wanted to reach up and kiss her perfect grin, but she kept her hand on my chest, reminding me I was still weak.

I tried to sit up, "District Four," I groaned as a searing pain crossed my chest. "I'm part of Squad 451. I was victor of the 65th Hunger Games. I grew up by the ocean. I'm married to Annie Cresta, the love of my life."

She smirked, "Good answer." She said, taking a cold cloth and pressing it against my forehead.

I became restless, "Annie! How did I…? I…the mutts…" He stammered, bewildered if this was real. But it had to be. I could feel her touch. I could smell the sea. I was in the bed at Victor's Village.

"I guess you truly are the superior Finnick Odair." She told me, stroking my cheek. Her soft green eyes watched me lovingly, something I've missed since I've been gone. I asked all my questions and Annie knew all the answers. She told me about Coin, about my escape, my salvation…about the coma. "It was a miracle…" She finished.

I smiled, "Miracle," I repeated. Then a baby's cry rang out and I shot up despite the pain. "Miracle?" I asked, pressing my hand to her very flat stomach.

She nodded and smiled. She left the room and came back with a small bundled wrapped up in blankets. She held the tiny creature to her chest, "Meet Jonah Thomas Odair." She said, coddling the small child. "Mind his head," She said, smiling as she placed him in my hands. He was so little. I will never be able to properly describe the feeling of elation when I held him or when I looked at her. My chest tightened as I pulled her into my arms, still supporting our son. She wrapped the baby in her arms and fell into my perfectly.

"You waited for me," I choked out. It was real.

She looked at me in bewilderment. "Always," She told me. When the sun began to set, she let Jonah sleep in a tiny bassinet that sat on the front porch of our new home. I took her hand and we sat on the steps, watching the sea. The stars were smiling down on us tonight.

She never fell back into her mind. She was stronger than me. When I couldn't escape the nightmares of the mutts, she would call to me, "Come home my love." And I would. Annie Cresta, the girl trapped in the nets, saved the boy with the trident. We lived in peace, never thinking of the games. We lived out the promises we had made years ago. Only sometimes I would find myself locked away in my own mind, but she waited for me always. Annie never let me go, she never became impatient with me. She waited. She took me back to the sea, and with her hand in mine, I was set free.

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><p>Alright guys, that's the end. Thanks so much for reading! You've made this such a wonderful experience! You've all been so wonderful throughout this and I just want to thank all of you for your patience and support! I really hope you enjoyed this story. If you loved it, please, please, pretty please promote it! If you hated it, let me know how I could have improved it. I can't better my writing without you :) Feel free to find me on tumblr at: .com. If you ever want a promotion there, I would be more than happy to do that. And again, THANK YOU SO MUCH!


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